


Warmth

by koto



Series: You Give Me Warmth [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Roommates, Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers, only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koto/pseuds/koto
Summary: "The things that had attracted him to Minho on first meeting are still there, the glint in his eyes and the curve of his lips, the way he can be gentle and soft in one moment then teasing and sarcastic the next. Jisung still likes those things, but he has more to the list now. He knows that Minho wakes up easily, and cooks them both breakfast when he knows Jisung also has work early."Minho and Jisung know they have a mutual pull to each other, they've proved it in the past, but as new roommates they've spent the past month trying not to act. A night of domesticity and baking proves to be their breaking point.a.k.a. Minho and Jisung hitting on each other and making out for nearly 23k words.*this work has an epilogue posted within the series, please check it out!*
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Series: You Give Me Warmth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793788
Comments: 47
Kudos: 478
Collections: Minsung





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is my first fic ever, and what was originally meant to be a short little fluff fic of Minsung baking brownies and making out turned into a nearly 23k monster but I'm actually pretty proud of it. What can I say, the plot points just kept popping into my head and I couldn't deny them. I would love any feedback you may have, I know this isn't perfect and I'd really love reader input. 
> 
> TW: there is a small part where Jisung expresses a bit of anxiety regarding being in crowded spaces, it's in the portion of the work that talks about trains/the train station. It's extremely miniscule.
> 
> As a note: There is no smut in this fic, but there is making out and the very subtle mention of a possible boner. It is so subtle that I would not even classify it as sexual content.
> 
> This is still in the process of being beta read, so while I have edited it to the extent of my ability there may be typo's and I may be coming back and editing this, but I honestly couldn't wait to get this posted. It took me 7 days to write and 3 days to edit to the point that it's at and I just don't want to hold onto it any longer, so feel free to tell me anything you see! And thank you so much to my beta, the first edits I saw really got me on the right track and I couldn't have even polished it to this extent without feedback!
> 
> I hope you like reading this even half as much as I liked writing it!

Jisung is close to his boiling point. He has been since the first of last month, the day he moved into his new apartment. It’s no fault of the apartment itself, this is actually the nicest place he has ever lived, a gorgeous vintage two-bedroom unit settled in a quiet pocket of the city, fifteen minutes from his new workplace. He knows he lucked out with this one, and by all accounts, it should be a sanctuary for him to come home to after a long day (or night) in the studio, cool down, and relax. Much of the time Jisung does feel that way, when he walks in and hears the quiet thrum of the air conditioner, the only movement in the living room the curtains being slightly swayed. But there are times that make him feel the opposite.

Now is one of those times. As he turns his key into the lock and opens the door into the threshold, toeing off his shoes and trying to maintain balance, Jisung glances around the apartment, eyes wandering towards the kitchen, and he suddenly feels warm. It rushes to his cheeks, a small smile makes its way to his lips, and all the blood in his body simmers quietly as his eyes land on his roommate, hunched over their kitchen counter, eyes squinting at his phone and a slew of baking ingredients taking up every surface in the area.

“Welcome back Jisungie!”

More warmth. Jisung does his best to smile back and wave without tipping over while still in the process of pulling his left shoe off, but fails and has to catch himself on the wall. The dull simmer in his stomach moves up to his chest and he feels the slight flutter of his heart when Minho looks up from his phone and smiles at him, dark eyes scrunched up as a result of just how wide his lips have spread. Jisung wishes he knew what he looked like in moments like this, a normal exchange of greetings between roommates and friends that leaves him with the warm and fuzzies every time it happens. The warmth Jisung feels when he looks at his roommate is not unpleasant, not by any means, but when Minho is nearby it is neverending, a reminder of the undeniable attraction and fondness he feels towards the man. It feels like an adolescent crush, or a fairy tale come to life. Jisung thinks if he were sleeping beauty, Minho’s kiss would likely be the one to wake him up. If he lost his glass slipper he would wish for Minho to be the one to bring it back to him. Well, glancing down Jisung thinks it would more likely be the platform Converse sneakers he wears so often. The laces are starting to become threadbare and if one snapped on his walk home through the city he really just might need a prince to come and rescue him.

“Nice apron,” Jisung teases, taking in Minho’s appearance. His outfit doesn’t stand out too much from the norm, grey form-fitting sweatpants and a simple black tee-shirt that hugs his body nicely without being too tight. The focal point that has caught Jisung’s attention is a white apron hanging loosely over top, covered in various colorful cats, some wearing chef’s hats, some holding spatulas. They all look ready to be his little helpers. It’s a bit absurd, Jisung thinks to himself, but it oddly couldn’t suit him better. “What’s all this for? Are you making a cake to celebrate my homecoming? I’ve only been gone since morning, you really didn’t have to,” Jisung sends a smile and a wink bordering on sleazy towards Minho, earning himself a chuckle.

“Not a cake, and not your homecoming.” Minho states, shaking his head slightly. Chocolate brown hair falls into his eyes, and he has to shake a little bit harder to get the hair out of his vision. “I’m making brownies to bring over to Seungmin and Hyunjin’s place. They were only gone on honeymoon for two weeks but Hyunjin has been whining in the dance studios group chat about missing homemade food for half of it. He requested everyone bring something. Baking isn’t really my specialty though…” Minho’s squint returns and his lips form a slight scowl as he glances back down to his phone and up to the mess already forming on the counter.

Upon seeing Minho struggle, Jisung takes pity on the man. He walks into the restroom while calling out, “You cook for us all the time! I’m sure they’re going to be great.” He returns to the kitchen with a hair clip in hand and walks towards Minho. The loss of his platform shoes forces him to acknowledge their difference in height, and Jisung has to reach up a little more than he cares to admit as he threads his fingers through silky brown hair and clips the troublesome part of Minho's bangs to the top of his head.

“Thank you Sungie,” Minho sing-songs, turning to him as they meet eyes, Jisung’s gaze widening as he realizes the close proximity his action has put them in. Everything around him feels warm again, or maybe that’s just the oven preheating, but it’s comfortable, and neither of them attempt to move away for a few seconds. “But,” Minho finally pulls his smiling eyes away from Jisung and uses them to shoot daggers at his phone for a third time, “Baking is not cooking. When I cook I can go off of feeling. If I go off feeling while making brownies we could be biting into bricks. There’s chemistry involved. I can’t lose my teeth Jisung, the kids will be scared of me. This,” he motions at his face, “Is the moneymaker.”

“Your job is to teach the kids how to dance, not to make them fall in love with you Minho. And besides, even with a few teeth missing, I’m sure you’ll still be very pretty.” Jisung grins and sends him another exaggerated wink. He’s not lying about that. Minho is good looking in an ethereal way, eyes upturned and curious with lips that look like they’re always keeping a secret joke from you. Lips that Minho is currently pushing into a plump pout as he focuses on reading the baking instructions. Lips that Jisung realizes he has probably been staring at for a bit too long to go unnoticed at this point, but if Minho notes the staring as anything but platonic he doesn’t let on.

Jisung clears his throat and looks away. “But, if you are truly concerned, I will grace you with my help in making the brownies. On the agreement that they are a gift from our household. I will have you know that I have been my mother’s number one baking assistant 22 years in a row.” Jisung puffs his chest out and grins as he turns towards the ingredients and glances over at Minho's phone so they can both read the instructions.

“Number one since you were born, huh? My hero! My prince! My knight in shining armor! Thank you Sungie, I would be lost without you!”

 _That’s backward_ , Jisung thinks to himself, but he relishes in the praise and his smile turns genuine.

“Give me fifteen minutes to shower and wash the city off me and we’ll start.” Jisung glances at the clock. He had gone to the recording studio early today at the request of a client and been able to head home a bit early as a result, so it’s barely 4:30 in the afternoon. Waking up as the sun rose, however, had left him short on time for a morning shower and feeling a bit grimy. He was able to hide somewhat greasy blonde hair under a beanie and make himself presentable, but a bit of drowsiness was beginning to work its way into his eyes and he can feel the grime of a commute through the city and a hard day’s work settling on the top layer of his skin.

“Ok, but I want to get these made and head out before the Friday night rush, so be quick” Minho chastised him.

“Ten minutes.”

“Deal.”

Jisung carries a small stack of lounge clothes from his bedroom to the bathroom and mentally prepares himself for the quickest shower of his life. He is normally one to ponder, take his time and let hot water run over his shoulders as thoughts were coaxed out from the depths of his mind by the steam. There is no time for that today.

Today he has a mission ahead of him, brownies to make and a Minho to impress. He sets the temperature to lukewarm and grimaces, mentally preparing for the shock he’s about to feel. Upon stepping into the shower, the lethargy that has been settling into his body throughout the day instantly leaves his system and washes down the drain. Jisung takes a deep breath and tries to push the nervousness and butterflies from his interaction with Minho out to follow, but they seem to be molten to his core at this point.

A brisk seven minutes later Jisung is out of the shower feeling clean and refreshed, changed into a tank top far too large for everyday use sporting his old college mascot and a pair of sweatpants rolled up at the ankles. Not the appropriate attire to go and meet his friends to celebrate their homecoming, per se, but the ideal getup for the immediate task at hand. As much as he had boasted about his baking talents to Minho, his assistant skills with his mother could mostly be boiled down to pulling out ingredients and licking the batter off the spoon as a child. He is just as likely to mess something up and cause a spill as Minho, maybe more so, the difference is that Jisung’s bluff has yet to be called.

Jisung takes his remaining three minutes to inspect himself in the mirror. His hair is clean now, but as he pushes it back and out of his face the dark roots overtaking his sandy blonde hair become more apparent. He frowns in the mirror, and as he contemplates a change in color he hears a soft knock on the door.

“Are you decent?” Minho asks as he creaks the door open a sliver.

“If I wasn’t what would you have done?” Jisung asks as he pulls the door the rest of the way open and beckons Minho in. His eyes are still trained on the mirror, but he glances to the side to look at Minho’s reflection. Side by side in the mirror Jisung notes the differences between the two. Despite only a two year age difference, their looks are quite contrasting. Where Minho’s face is sculpted and refined, Jisung’s is plump and full of curves, his cheeks still holding onto the signs of youth. His lips are thinner than Minho’s but shapely and expressive. Taking in the whole picture, he decides that rather than a preference for Minho’s face or his own, he thinks they look best together, two halves of a whole. He wonders if Minho feels the same.

“I thought you were supposed to be my prince, not Snow White! Quit staring at yourself in the mirror, we can both be the fairest of them all, you promised me saving Sungie.” A tinge of blush rises to Jisung’s cheeks, the warm feeling coming back again. Any other time and he would blame the steam of the shower for clogging up the bathroom, but his shower today was chilled, he still had goosebumps to prove it. Had Minho read his mind? Unlikely. Jisung smiles, entertaining the idea of him and Minho being on such a similar wavelength, and grabs Minho by the shoulders to push him back towards the kitchen.

“Snow White isn’t the one looking in the mirror, Min, that’s the queen. You really do need my saving. Let’s get to work!”

“Aah! Why are your hands so cold?” Minho shrieked. Jisung just giggles and continues steering his roommate through the hall, finally landing back in front of their work station.

“Alright, let’s get to baking.” Jisung rolls his head from side to side in a show of cracking his neck, rotating his shoulders back and attempting but failing to crack his knuckles. It’s time for him to put on his best performance. “First of all, if you’re going to wear that crazy apron, at least tie it or it’s just going to fall into our batter.”

“Help me?” Minho pouts, holding his arms above his head, eyes glinting with mischief. Jisung hesitates for a moment, debating the best way to approach this, and throws caution to the wind. He has to take the chances he can get. He sidles up to Minho so they’re nearly chest to chest and reaches around his torso, crossing the ties in the back and pulling them around either side of Minho’s body and tying them in a neat bow in front. Jisung can feel Minho looking down and smirking, enjoying the view of the shorter man’s mouth puckering and brows furrowing in concentration. He must have showered when he got home from the dance studio, Jisung notes, because in his act of invading his roommates space he catches a whiff of minty soap and a hint of cologne, subtle but noticeable, and thinks back to the set of toiletries that sit next to his own in their shared bathroom. The smell makes Jisung think of clear pools of water in the mountains, crisp and refreshing. He lingers in that position for another few seconds, tying a second knot in the apron in an attempt to draw the moment out. The oven beeps, three times in a row, signaling the preheating process is done and startling Jisung, causing him to jump back a bit, realizing that he has probably been standing there soaking in the presence of his friend for a little bit too long to be considered normal. He misses Minho biting his bottom lip, stifling a giggle at Jisung’s reaction and looking down at him with a fond glint in his eyes.

“You’re all geared up now. Let me see your phone, I can read off the measurements while you combine ingredients.”

“That sounds an awful lot like me doing all the work. Are you going to help me with the physical labor or just order me around the whole time?”

“I,” Jisung announces, “will be cracking the eggs today. I will also volunteer myself for the difficult duty of taste testing, licking the spatula, and providing us with an excellently curated baking soundtrack.”

“That’s not fair. We lick the spatula together.” Jisung inhales sharply at the sound of that, trying to come up with some interpretation of that statement that doesn’t sound utterly perverted and intimate. Sometimes he swears Minho is doing this on purpose, getting him flustered with his words, the batting of his long lashes, and the smirk that plays on his lips when he says things that can only serve to heighten his hopes that the attraction is mutual between them. He knows they have a pull deep down, memories of the first time they met on a constant loop in the back of his mind every time they meet eyes. _Today_ , Jisung resolves, _I’ll allow myself. Today I will be selfish, I will get my hopes up, and I will see where things take me. Today feels hopeful._

Although he keeps the resolution in his mind, Jisung is still a little bit speechless at that comment, so he offers a nod of his head to Minho as he scrolls through the now unlocked phone and finds a playlist to put on, something energetic and bubbly that will keep them motivated and get them ready for the approaching get-together.

Hyunjin and Seungmin have actually been married a little over a month now, but with their wedding date falling just before the end of spring dance recitals for Hyunjin and Seungmin still having a couple of weeks of school left before his music students were done for the year, they had opted to push their honeymoon back two weeks so they could jet set off with minds free of worry. Seungmin had been skeptical of even setting their wedding for such a hectic time, but their dream venue had a last-minute cancellation and they got a deal they would be crazy to refuse. The ceremony was beautiful, the reception one for the books, and the timing had been perfect for Jisung as well, with his scheduled move-in date falling just three days after. He had been on an extended project cross country with his producing partners, one of the groups they had been working with since the start of their career wanting an escape from the harsh Chicago winter and migrating to Los Angeles for their next album. They offered Jisung and his producing partners, Changbin and Chan, room and board for as long as it took to finish the album. With the team’s lease on their old three-bedroom apartment being up shortly anyways, they all jumped at the opportunity. The only problem was, with the album wrapping up the trio suddenly found themselves apartment hunting from several thousand miles away. No three bedrooms at a reasonable cost were opening up any time soon, so when Chan and Changbin found the perfect two-bedroom apartment two blocks from the recording studio they use as a home base, Jisung had no intention to hold them back. He owes his seniors a lot, after all, so he bit the bullet and told them to take the place and, saying he would find arrangements nearby.

Chan, being the overprotective friend he is, was at least able to offer Jisung a lead on a place. A friend and coworker of Seungmin’s fiance had been looking for someone to rent out the extra room in his apartment, as his previous roommate had to leave suddenly, fleeing town and neglecting to help with the upcoming rent check for next month. It was a rush job for both parties, it seemed, so Jisung signed the next year of his life to a roommate he had never met in person based on the trust he has in Seungmin.

Jisung, Changbin, and Chan flew back into Chicago three days before the wedding, moving as much of their wardrobes as they could into suitcases and settling into hotel rooms as they packed up their old place and prepared for Chan and Changbins big move. Jisung’s new roommate, Minho, he learns, had texted him and told him not to worry about bringing any furniture, as his old roommate hadn’t had the chance to take anything with him. So Jisung waited, killing the days before the wedding relaxing in his hotel room and watching TV, and the day after the wedding, after everyone had nursed their pounding hangovers and filled up on brunch, instead of flying off to paradise Seungmin and Hyunjin had rolled up their sleeves and helped the boys move into their new respective homes.

Seungmin had saved Jisung’s ass last month, and the more he gets to know Hyunjin the more he thinks they could be close friends, so the least Jisung can do is make sure they get the best damn brownies a friend could ask for.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Jisung is startled out of the train of thought he’d gotten lost in at the question, furrowing his brows again and pointing a questioning gaze at Minho. “You spaced out for a second,” Minho states with a small smile. Slowly Jisung feels him reach his hands up, carefully placing one on each side of his face, spanning the area over the base of his jaw into the beginning of his neck. Jisung’s feels his eyes widen and heat rushes to his cheeks again, unsure of what’s going on. Is this their moment? Had Jisung really hoped mutual feelings into existence? Should he be reaching up and closing the distance? The floodgates of his mind flew open, the familiar feeling of Minho’s hands on his face pushing him into a state of panic. But before Jisung can move, he feels the hands rub small circles at the base of his jaw and squish his cheeks together. The muscles in the area loosen and he realizes Minho’s fingers have pushed him into a state of looking slack-jawed and dumb. “You were clenching your jaw with all that concentration Sungie. You’re gonna hurt yourself. Relaaaax,” Minho draws out the last syllable of his sentence, pulling his hands away and making exaggerated in and out breathing motions as if leading a guided meditation course.

Upon the loss of touch, Jisung lets his head slump forward, extinguishing the breath he had been holding in a show of exasperation rather than meditation, but if Minho notices the difference he plays it off, slapping a hand onto Jisung’s bare shoulder. “Good job! A quick learner.”

This is getting absolutely ridiculous. His heart rate is speeding, the low simmer of heat in his stomach that Jisung had previously felt dull and omnipresent around his roommate was getting stronger, more volatile with every charged touch and look. Jisung is done being flustered and disoriented. Two can play at this game.

“Yah! Unsanitary. Wash your hands, aren’t you the one who gave us a time limit?” Jisung spins Minho around by the shoulders to face the sink and decides there’s no time like the present to take action. He pulls his hand back and, after a moment of hesitation, propels his palm onto Minho’s ass with a satisfying smack and a cackle.

Suddenly he sees Minho’s posture straighten and his body still, and for a moment Jisung worries he crossed a line until he notices the backs of Minho’s ears turn cherry red and the boy turns around, slack-jawed and flushed. The look on his face, struggling to hold back a smile so he can feign anger as he sputters and looks for words is everything Jisung needs to know his plan is going to work.

Once Minho’s hands are washed and dried, Jisung follows suit, and they finally begin to actually prepare their dessert, Jisung calling out measurements in his best sportscaster voice as Minho begins combining butter, sugar, and vanilla extract into their mixing bowl. When it comes time to add eggs into the mixture, they swap places.

This is it, this is Jisung’s one cooking skill; the one-handed egg crack. “All right, are you ready to be impressed?” the assistant baker sends a cocky look Minho’s way, rubbing his hands together and cracking his knuckles in an exaggerated fashion.

“Impressed by egg cracking? Try me, Han.” Minho glances dismissively at his so-called apprentice, which only fuels Jisung. He picks up the egg, inspecting the angles, and where best to crack for a high rate of success. Jisung is nothing if not a showman, and right now this kitchen is his stage. He places his left hand firmly onto the rim of the mixing bowl, brings down the egg onto the side of the of it with the perfect amount of pressure, then holds the egg over the bowl and expertly splits the shell down the middle with his available hand, watching as the egg slides into the bowl with ease, yolk still whole, his performance executed perfectly. He smiles widely up at Minho, eyes disappearing and lips morphing into a perfect heart shape, thrilled with how well he had done and hoping Minho would feel the same. He sees Minho, eyes wide and mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, admiring his roommates work. His gaze quickly turns to meet Jisung’s and, seeing the proud smile on his boyish face, finds one creeping onto his own. “You win. I’m impressed. Can you teach me that?” Minho questions. His voice is eager and Jisung’s chest swells with warmth and excitement as he realizes the universe is presenting him with a choice opportunity.

“So the assistant becomes the master. As your knight in shining armor, I would normally tell you to leave the flashy stuff to me, but I’ll make an exception this time. What you’re going to do,” Jisung preaches, picking up the second egg and placing it in Minho’s hand as he shifts his body behind the dancer, “is first examine your egg.” Jisung has positioned his body behind Minho’s, arm straining to follow the larger wingspan. While his body is smaller, Jisung has a slight advantage in hand size over Minho, and he uses it to keep his palm pressed to the back of Minho’s hand as he directs the egg upwards to eye level. He can feel Minho’s shoulders shaking a little bit, most likely trying to suppress a laugh as he feels Jisung rise to his tiptoes, but he says nothing of it and allows the action to continue without protest, which Jisung will be eternally grateful for. Pressed up against Minho like this, his nose nearly grazes silky brown hair, and the fragrance of the soap and cologne he caught earlier mixes with the subtle floral scent of their shared shampoo and conditioner. He takes a shallow breath through his nose, trying his hardest not to make it obvious how much he is enjoying this, though he’s not entirely convinced it works.

“See the part where the egg is roundest? That’s your breaking point.” Jisung clasps their left hands together and positions them on the bowl. “No cheating. Now,” he directs as he gently motions for Minho to start moving down, “Go.” Suddenly, rapidly, Minho moves his arm down with far more force than needed, and Jisung, still on his toes from trying to keep his arm at the same level as his roommates, stumbles. He doesn’t fall entirely, but in his panic, he grabs for anything he can to maintain balance, and in doing so squeezes his and Minho’s hands into a fist, egg still in grasp. He steadies himself and as he begins to peel away from Minho, feeling the lukewarm slime of the raw egg begins to slip around his loosening grip.

“Jisung.” Minho grits his teeth and Jisung can tell he’s trying to keep a calm tone and demeanor.

“Yes?” He squeaks, trying his best to avoid looking at the mess he’s caused, squishing his right cheek against Minho’s back and keeping his eyes screwed shut.

“Do not panic, do not move your hand or this entire egg, shell and all, is going into our batter... Put your hand back where it was,” Jisung tightens his grip, “ and we are going to slowly, calmly, walk over to the sink and let go.

They move with the precision of a soldier handling live ammo, Minho rotating them 180 degrees and taking three small steps towards their sink, guiding Jisung’s arm to follow his over the basin. They drop the egg with a disgusting splat and both release the breaths they have been holding. Jisung finally lets go of the grip on his roommate’s hand, maneuvering his body so his right hand can remain dangling over the sink, still covered in small amounts of raw egg, while simultaneously providing Minho with some much needed space to thoroughly clean his far messier hand and wrist off. They both remain silent as they clean themselves off, Jisung gnawing on his lips, overcome by guilt.

“Hey.”  
“I’m so sorry.”

They speak at the same time, eyes snapping to each other as they try to shake the awkward air around them.

“I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean for that to happen I just-” the apology tapers off and vanishes into thin air, Jisung unable to find a reasonable way to explain his thought process. He looks like a dejected puppy, bottom lip formed into a quivering pout and eyes trailing to the floor. What kind of dumb idea was that? Getting behind the man he liked and trying to teach him a new skill, did he think he was in a dumb rom-com?

“Sungie stop apologizing and look at me.” Jisung trains his eyes up to Minho, currently holding his hands out in front of his body. He reaches down to pull Jisung’s hands up and displays them in the same way. “Look. Clean.” Minho took their ingredient bowl and held it up for Jisung to look at. “No eggshells. No harm, no foul, just one egg lost. Besides, you were an excellent teacher. I’ve never been so inspired to learn!”

Minho puts the bowl back down and grabs an egg from the carton, cracking it onto the side of the bowl and depositing it into the brownie mixture one-handed without a moment of hesitation. “See? I learned from the best. And I’m sorry for moving my arm down so quickly, the only reason you lost your balance was because of me.”

Jisung pushes his bottom lip out further and nods in appreciation, feeling relief wash over him. Minho isn’t annoyed. And he liked the lesson? If Minho wanted more lessons like that, Jisung could probably get used to living his whole life clinging to the taller man's back and following him around. He would just need to find the appropriate stretches. “I guess I must be a pretty good teacher, you learned that impressively fast. But I think I’ll still let you take the reins from here, I’m going back to reading off measurements for now.” Minho smiles fondly at Jisung, with the distinct look of someone keeping a secret glimmering in his eyes.

With Jisung back in his very safe role of calling out measurements for Minho to pour into a second mixing bowl, their dry and wet ingredient bowls are ready to be combined, and the men are left with a difficult choice. Will Jisung’s destructive forces be more of a risk if placed in charge of pouring dry ingredients from one bowl to the other, or mixing as Minho carries out the pouring? It’s not a question either of them wants to pose aloud, Jisung having no desire to admit to his faults so shortly after the egg incident and Minho not wanting to embarrass him again.

Eventually, Jisung rolls his head, to the right, to the left, to the back, preparing himself, and takes a step towards the bowl filled with wet ingredients, placing a hand on the large wooden spoon they will be mixing the batter with. He pushes the wet ingredients around, making a mini-game out of popping the two egg yolks and making the bright yellow disappear into a mixture of otherwise pale ingredients. Minho looks on in amusement, delighted in how easily Jisung can find joy in the mundane. The younger man has adopted a habit of stirring with his whole body, and as Minho accepts his new role and shuffles up next to Jisung with his bowl in hand, their hips begin to brush with every new rotation of the wooden spoon. Jisung can feel Minho leaning into his space, sees him begin to slant the smaller mixing bowl and watches as the mixture begins to thicken.

Their previously loud banter has lulled, the only sounds in the apartment being the soft background music Jisung had put on earlier and the sound of his spoon scraping the side of the bowl as he tries to make the batter as homogenous as possible. It’s comfortable, peaceful, and Jisung finds himself feeling relaxed enough with Minho at his side that he begins humming along to the song, adding his own touch to their soundtrack. Minho’s bowl is getting more and more empty, and he finds himself paying more attention to fluffy blonde hair and doe eyes squinting in concentration than the task at hand.

“Why do you create songs for other people and not yourself?”

Jisung becomes silent, head snapping up and eyes opening wide. He says nothing for a few moments, and then his face clouds over and he looks back down at his bowl and keeps mixing. The batter is completely mixed already, but Jisung keeps stirring, creating rich brown ripples and waves.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Well…” Minho pauses for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly just happened. He had meant it as an innocent question, but the reaction he received made him think he must have fucked up in the phrasing. “It’s just, I think it would suit you. To keep them for yourself sometimes. Your voice is so captivating, I’ve always thought so. I think people should be able to hear it more.”

Jisung perks up at this. “I love songwriting and producing, it’s an outlet for me and I get to put my thoughts and emotions into the world. Even if I’m creating for other artists to tell the story, the message I’m trying to spread is getting out there. And I’ve gotten amazing opportunities producing with Chan and Changbin, I could never complain about where this road has taken me.”

“I just think a lot of people would like to hear those stories through your voice. Me, for one.” The mood is getting a little too genuine, a little too personal for Jisung to respond to without knowing where his honesty will land him.

“Are you saying you’ll be my number one fan?” Jisung giggles and he can feel his cheeks warm up. A quick glance at Minho reveals that red has bloomed at the tops of his ears again. “In all seriousness, it’s not like I’ve never considered it. I do love to sing, and there are certain songs that I just wouldn’t feel right giving away. Personal songs, you know? It’s just a big transition, and the guys and I were so busy in L.A. that I couldn’t even consider it seriously.”

“Well if you ever care to share, I’m here to listen.”

“There is actually a song I’ve been working on for about a month now... One that I can’t give away. Maybe someday soon you can give me a first opinion, tell me how you feel?”

“It’s an honor to be considered,” Minho grins in Jisung’s direction. The smaller man feels an arm on his elbow, effectively stopping him from stirring. The heat from Minho’s hand is overwhelming, and he knows they’ve been touchy today, far moreso than usual, but after a somewhat vulnerable confession and receiving so much praise the grip feels overwhelming and his body starts simmering again. “I think that mixture has been done for a good two minutes now, Jisung. Let’s get these in the oven, it’s already… 5:15?” Minho exclaims, eyes doubling in size and then closing as he hangs his head in defeat. “I wanted to be out the door At 5:45. These need to bake for forty minutes and cool for at least twenty. We are so fucked for the train.”

They both get to work, pouring the batter carefully into a baking tray and placing the creation they’d put so much effort into in the oven. They set a timer for forty minutes, and both men let out a breath knowing the hard work is over. Jisung settles into a pattern of closing all the open ingredients as Minho puts them back into their proper home within the kitchen, telling Jisung he “needed to use his height advantage for good,” a sentiment which received a dramatic eye roll and a sigh in response.

Jisung glances around as Minho is putting the eggs away and, as quietly as possible, patters over to their mixing bowl. They had scraped what they could into the pan, but there is still a thin layer of batter coating the bottom and Jisung is determined to make it his. He ever so gently scrapes his wooden spoon across the bottom, gathering a good amount of batter, but just as he can place it in his mouth he feels muscular arms encircle him and another set of hands join his on the handle. “Did you think you could take all this for yourself?” Minho says quietly, breath fanning against blonde hair and red ears. Jisung thinks it’s a miracle he can’t see the steam coming out of them, because Minho is so so close and he’s not sure how much more he can handle. Minho slowly starts guiding the spoon away from the shorter man's face and up to his own.

“I don’t think so, you menace. I got here first, you can have my leftovers.” Jisung says confidently as he yanks down on the spoon and brings it back towards him. It lands in his mouth, eventually, but not without struggle, as Minho still has it in a death grip. The spoon first bumps against Jisung’s cheekbone, leaving a glob of brown batter on his face, and then on the area right above his lip, from where he drags it into his mouth. Jisung turns around in Minho’s arms, looking up at Minho and smirking as he licks the spoon clean. They are now face to face, Jisung essentially caged against the kitchen counter in his roommates arms, but he won his battle and Minho can tell from his aura he still believes he has the upper hand. He pulls the spoon out of his mouth and holds it up. “All clean, sorry Min. Guess you can use your finger for what’s left in the bowl.” His smirk and the look in his eyes are teasing, and probably need to be taken down a notch. The glint in Minho’s own eyes tells Jisung he knows just how to do it, but nothing can prepare him for what’s about to happen.

“You missed a spot,” Minho says, voice low, leaning towards Jisung’s face. “Here,” he moves closer, lips brushing against the glob of chocolate on Jisung’s cheekbone. He presses down more firmly and, to Jisung’s dismay, sucks. It’s not hard, not sloppy, just a quick swipe of his tongue and a brief suction strong enough to clean the chocolate off his cheek. He pulls off with a pop and moves his head back a bit, no more than an inch, and Jisung is certain he can tell just how red and flustered he’s become.

“M-Minho! Are you that desperate?” He asks, unable to pretend to be calm anymore. This is completely out of his wheelhouse, Jisung has no logical idea how to react to a handsome man licking chocolate off his face, invading his space in this way, and stay calm. If Minho does much more than this he’s going to completely lose his cool. The simmer that’s built within him will finally rumble up to a boil and overflow, the steam will be released, and Jisung will explode. If he does anything more, Jisung will cease to be able to hold back, and right now he’s disposed to let him.

“Yes,” Minho whispers, eyes hooded and cheeks tinged with their own shade of red. “Yes, I’m desperate.” He leans forward again, and down this time, landing on the dot of brownie batter settled directly above Jisung’s lip. He repeats his actions, lips landing on the area, tongue stroking over the smooth skin, lightly sucking. He’s close enough to Jisung’s lip in this position that when he sucks a little bit harder, about to pull off, his lower lip grazes Jisung’s upper. They have been running in circles around each other for the past month, trying to avoid the mutual attraction they both know is there, but with one final bit of pressure the dams are breaking. Minho begins to pull away, tries to prevent himself from doing anything that will ruin their relationship as is forever, but a slim pair of arms reach around his neck and lock the man in place.

“In that case,” Jisung mutters, slanting his head up slightly so he can feel Minho’s pout and petal pink lips on his own, “I think there’s a little bit more here.”

“More?” Minho questions, gazing into Jisung’s eyes to see his own desperation and desire reflected in them. Camouflaged under the ruse of getting more of the sweet chocolate, they both know what the question is. A final request for permission, a statement of desire, the allowance to stop pretending they’ve both forgotten the fire they both feel when they’re together.

“More.” Jisung states firmly, and finally, he lets himself boil over. He pushes up and leans forward, quivering lips pressing onto Minho’s and feels explosions of heat throughout his entire body, starting in his toes and working their way up through his kneecaps, his chest, his ears, his hands that have woven themselves into dark brown hair. He feels Minho’s lips move his own, creating an impenetrable link, and moves to match his rhythm. This kiss is different than he remembered, different than he expected, full not only of these explosions of passion but also fondness, still warm but more of a dull sensation that makes him feel tingly. It’s absolutely addicting. His mind wanders for a split second, going back to the first night he ever encountered the man who has him at his complete mercy.

* * *

After three days in a hotel, Jisung was bored and restless. It was finally the night of the wedding, and he had on his best suit, the one he wears to network with higher ups in the record labels he aims to impress. Chan and Changbin had come by last night to enjoy a few drinks in his room, hanging out and relaxing before their schedule became nonstop. One thing had led to another, and after a few drinks the tipsy trio had wandered into a drugstore and returned to the room with several boxes of hair dye. Jisung now sported sandy blonde hair, only slightly crunchy to the touch. Chan had fared less fortunately, his hair a stunning platinum blonde but in need of a little more TLC and a lot more deep conditioner.

Jisung smoothed his hand through his hair, trying to keep it pushed slightly back with product, and straightened his suit and tie. He looked pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. He wonders if the new hair will draw eyes. Not enough to distract from the grooms, nobody is going to be able to keep their eyes away from a couple that look the way Hyunjin and Seungmin do on their special day, but maybe enough to catch the attention of one of the people who would be joining him at the singles table.

The ceremony was gorgeous, the grooms stunning, and the mood uplifting. Jisung snuck a peek at the guests on Hyunjin’s side of the aisle, he was unfamiliar with most of them and curious if any of them would be adopted into their friend group. One of the few mutual friends they had, Felix, was serving as best man on Seungmin’s side (Jisung tells himself not to be jealous, he was in a different state for much of the wedding planning process anyway). There was a smaller boy on Hyunjin’s side, Jisung thought his name was Jeongin (He might be Hyunjin’s cousin if he’s remembering correctly?) but that’s about where the familiarity cuts out. As his eyes scan the crowd, he caught the gaze of a stranger and couldn't quite make himself look away. The man was gorgeous, with plush lips and upturned eyes that seem to know a secret that he wasn’t quite ready to share. He was in the middle of his row but there are gaps on either side of him, and Jisung crosses his fingers that means he would see him at the singles table later tonight.

Unfortunately the finger crossing method is not foolproof, and while his mystery man was at the singles table, Jisung himself was not. It seems Chan, Changbin, and himself had been missed dearly during their time away, and had gained themselves VIP tickets to the table Seungmin, Hyunjin, and the best men were at. It was amazing to see them again and catch up, and they all enjoy their celebratory champagne together, but Jisung was distracted. Chan could sense this and placed a hand around Jisung’s shoulder, startling him out of the daze he had caught himself in, staring into space at the other side of the room. His mystery man had gotten up and seemed to be making their way towards them.

“Jisung, if you want to go wander around, feel free.” Chan said in a low voice, knowing how bad the younger man could be at sitting still when he was in new territory. “We’re all heading out at eleven, since we have to wake up early for the move tomorrow, but why don’t you go wander around and enjoy the next couple hours?”

Jisung glanced at his phone, which read 8:15. He still had quite a lot of time to kill and he certainly couldn’t do it sitting in this chair, so he glanced at Chan and nodded. He opened the alarm app and set an 11:00 alert just in case, feeling a bit like cinderella. Just as Jisung started to swivel himself in his seat, a gorgeous man stopped in front of him, eyes glinting with happiness and lips upturned into a genuine smile. His stare was pointed directly at the newlyweds, not seeming to notice that he had effectively caged Jisung in, but he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed.

“I want to wish you two congratulations, I’m so happy for you! Seungmin, you’re gonna have your hands full with this guy, I know I do at work, so best of luck.” Hyunjin shot the man a pouty look and wrapped his arms around his husband, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He knows what he signed up for, Mr. Head Dance Instructor, stop trying to scare my man away.”

So he’s a dance teacher. Jisung looked up at him, allowing himself a few moments to be greedy and drink in how nice he looks in his suit, muscles taut and strong. His champagne muddled brain began to wander, thinking of this man in tight dance clothes, clinging to his form, but a sharp laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. He’s missed part of the conversation, but the first thing he hears when tuned back in is “I’m about to head to the open bar. Great decision with that one.”

“I’ll go with you.” Jisung had blurted out, unable to stop himself. The man looked down at him, seeming to just then notice that he had been hovering in the seated man's proximity for the entire conversation. He looked alarmed for a second as he scrambles backwards, an apologetic look on his face, but as his eyes fell onto Jisung they regained a hint of that mysterious look they had early, a look that makes Jisung think he’s probably about to be at this mans mercy for as long as he wants. He had no intention to resist.

“Well then, shall we?” He offered, extending a hand to Jisung to help pull him up. Chan clapped him one final time on the back and sent a wink Jisung’s direction. As Jisung grabbed the stranger's hand, he immediately felt the warmth spread from his fingers and up his arm, and once they were both up and walking side by side he had to remind himself to let go. They didn’t speak on the way to the bar, and Jisung supposed that wasn’t strange, they really didn’t know each other, but he’d still like it to change.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Jisung asked as they reached the bar, deciding it was now or never. As he looked at the man's profile Jisung was struck once again by his beauty, the sharp point of his nose and those eyes full of knowledge. He reminded Jisung of a prince, but in an off kilter way. He wouldn’t be the crown prince, he would be the second son, the one who needs to be a little more conniving and have a penchant for business. This man was noble, but those eyes houseed something deeper and darker, and Jisung wanted to know how they got that way. And he can only do that by talking.

The second prince laughed again, that same sharp laugh Jisung recognized from earlier. “It’s an open bar.” He stated, and Jisung felt blood rush to his face. He looked in front of them, at the wooden sign that stated the same, ‘Open Bar, Tips Appreciated’ engraved into the surface, mocking him.

“Oh, so it is.” Jisung looked at him and laughed loudly, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. “That bleach from last night must be soaking through to my brain,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and loosening it so a few strands fell in front of his eyes.

“Well the blonde is working well for you, so it’s a worthy tradeoff.” the prince chided, running one of his own hands through Jisung’s hair and looking at him approvingly. “Cute. It’s soft too, that’s pretty impressive. I’ll be happy to take that drink from you if the offer still stands.” Jisung nodded quickly, flustered at how straightforward this man was with his intentions but pleased nonetheless. He turned slightly and waved his hand, wanting to catch the attention of the bartender but not quite ready to lose the warmth of the hand in his hair.

“A Honey Jack and lemonade for me please, and…?” Jisung turned back to the prince, questioning with his eyes what kind of drink he’d like.

“Whiskey ginger for me please,” the man smiled kindly at the bartender then glanced at Jisung, “and two shots of Jack Daniels as well please.” There was a challenge in his eyes, something that told Jisung that if he accepted this offer they wouldn’t be parting ways with each other anytime soon. He was thrilled to take it on.

“Shots, huh? I’ve already had a bit of champagne, I wasn’t planning to make a fool of myself at this wedding.” Jisung said with a giggle, excited by the pace of everything happening around him.

“Then you’re just gonna have to stay over here and trust me.Your reputation is safe with me, I’m here to protect.” The man smiled at him, fondly, like he genuinely cared for Jisung’s well-being and wasn't just trying to pick up a stranger at his coworkers wedding. Jisung somehow believed he wasn’t, believed that if his preference was just to sit and chat with the stranger, nursing a glass of water for the rest of the night, there would be no objection. He let the prince lace their fingers together, pulling him to two seats at the corner of the bar, tucked away so nobody could notice them unless they were on the lookout. The bartender came their way and dropped off two mixed drinks, followed shortly by intimidating looking shot glasses. It was an open bar, and the tenders knew people would be more generous with their tips if they poured a little heavy handed.

“Well,” Jisung stated, holding up his sickly sweet drink towards the man, “cheers to the happy couple!” The prince held up his own glass and clinked them together, both holding their respective beverages up to their lips and taking healthy swigs. Jisung grimaced for a moment as the liquor slid down his throat, it’s not unpleasant, the lemonade isn’t even sour with the honey flavored liquor mixed in, but it’s stronger than expected and he’s already on a fast track to buzzed . The fizzy feeling that his two glasses of champagne had given was mostly gone, now being replaced by the warm, comforting burn of whiskey in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” The prince giggled, mimicking Jisung’s grimace from earlier when he received a questioning look in return. This man was so damn cute when he giggled, so damn pretty when he smiled, so damn handsome when he spoke seriously, so damn perfect no matter what he did.

“I’m perfect. This is perfect.” Jisung said with a smile as he turned his stool to face the man. His action was mimicked once again, and soon instead of gazing at the princes side profile Jisung was met with dark brown eyes staring straight at him, knee to knee and face to face, and Jisung may have been losing it but moments later their knees were no longer just knocking together, they were slipped in between each other, and he’s still not sure if he was the one to scoot forward or the prince was but it felt comfortable and he was happy. Jisung took another sip of his drink, relishing in the warmth his entire body felt at the moment, and began to move his legs slightly side to side, watching as the other man released full control and let his leg bounce between Jisung’s like a ball in volley.

“Cute. You’re so cute.” Jisung looked up at the statement, met with a wide grin and an adorable eye smile, and he could see a faint pink glow on the mans cheeks and ears. It could have been the alcohol, but Jisung allowed himself to hope that he played a part in the blush.

“And you’re very handsome. That’s why I’m trusting you with my dignity this evening.”

“I’ll drink to that!” the man cheered, picking up the two shot glasses and passing one to Jisung.

“Cheers,” Jisung announced, “to the prince who has pledged to protect me!”

“To finding a man worth protecting!”

They each held their glass up to their mouth and tipped back, ripping the shot as liquor burned the back of their throats. It was, without a doubt, more than a standard shot, and while Jisung was able to choke his down without much fuss (better to get it over with than draw the experience out), the man across from him seemed to be struggling, having to put the tiny glass down with some whiskey still left inside.

“Booooo!” Jisung mock shouted, sending a thumbs down the mans way and pouting. “Are you sure you aren’t the one who needs protecting?” He chastised, patting the others back as he coughed. He looked up, eyes wet and sparkling with unshed tears that the coughing fit had brought on, and Jisung couldn’t help but coo at the man. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He laughed, grabbing a napkin from the bar and dabbing at the area around the mans eyes. “Do you want the last bit? Or should I take it for you?”

“I am a-” the prince croaked, cutting himself off to clear his throat. “I am a handsome prince, I can finish my own shot thank you very much.” he retorted, picking up the glass and pouring the last bit of liquor down his throat. Jisung could see how hard he was trying not to make a face, and did his best not to laugh in return, deciding it might be a little early on in their newly formed relationship to mock him as incessantly as he would most of his friends.

“You did good, my prince.” Jisung responded, a wide smile creeping onto his face, the kind that he knew turned his mouth into a heart and his eyes disappear. Nothing was particularly funny, he just felt good, the warmth had spread through his entire body and he was viewing the world through rose tinted glasses. There was a light happy buzz flowing through him, caused by good company and a modest amount of whiskey, and he was going to appreciate it while he could. At some point the hand Jisung had been resting on the bar had been taken captive by his princes, and his fingers were being pulled, bent, and gently massaged from both sides. It was sweet and innocent, the stranger playing with his hands as if he couldn’t bear not to touch. He was pleased to see that despite being shorter than the other, he had a slight size advantage between their hands, and where his fingers were rough and a little crooked, the princes were smooth and elegant. It was a nice contrast, they looked good together.

Suddenly the upbeat music that had been filling the venue died down, replaced with a slow waltz, and attention was drawn to the dance floor. The taller man couldn’t see from his position facing Jisung, and reluctantly their knees and fingers untangled as he spun his seat to get a view of the dance floor. The first dance of a newlywed couple was not something to miss, and especially not this couple. Seungmin and Hyunjin were beaming, white suits contrasting against the dark dance floor and almost glowing with the effect of the spotlights. The crowd watched as Hyunjin led the dance, using his expertise to glide them around the floor, Seungmin able to hold his own impressively well against a professional. The room was silent for the whole two minutes of the dance, breaking into applause as they took their bows. The song changed, and more couples were invited to the floor, only a select few brave enough to follow such a stunning performance.

“Wow,” Jisung breathed, the thought suddenly hitting him that his best friend was married, was so happy with Hyunjin that he wanted him by his side forever. He wanted something like that.

“Yeah,” the prince returned, eyes still trained on the dance floor following the happy couples.

Suddenly, Jisung felt too far away. The warmth that had been filling his body threatened to escape, and he was determined to keep it as long as possible. In a moment of bravery, he scooted his seat up as close as he could to the taller man and sat down again, one knee under his body for leverage. He hooked his arms around the prince's torso, clasping his hands together in front of his toned stomach, and lay his head down, cheek resting on a broad shoulder. The man smelled good, like soap and a crisp, refreshing cologne. The position was clingy, probably far too intimate for someone he’d met an hour ago and only flirted with casually to this point, but it was comfortable and felt natural in a way he couldn’t explain. He stiffened for a split second, certainly not expecting Jisung to cozy up to him in this way, but soon after he released his tension and tilted his head to the side, resting atop Jisung’s own. The looked on in silence at the dancers for another song, but when a new ballad came on and the floor became flooded with more and more couples, the atmosphere shifted a bit.

“They all look great. And here I thought we might have a chance to be the best looking couple in the room.” Jisung grumbled, finding the prince's hand and interlocking them once again.

He chuckled at that, shifting the angle of his head so his nose was buried in Jisung’s hair as he smiled and pressed a gentle peck to the top of his skull. Jisung rotated so his forehead was pressed against the man's broad shoulder, trying to hide his blush but failing to remember that the back of his ears were now in full view, cherry red with embarrassment. “We really could be. I think we should go upstage them.” the man announced, carefully spinning in his seat and grasping Jisung by the shoulders to get him to straighten up.

“I uh… I don’t really like crowds. They make me a little nervous.” Jisung mumbled. As much as he wanted to dance with his prince, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last on a dancefloor that packed.

“Then we’ll do it here, where it’s just us, and nobody can see. How does that sound? Will you do this prince the honor of a dance?”

Jisung perked up, this man he barely knew already knew exactly what to say to calm him down and didn’t mind altering the norm to make him comfortable. He was on cloud nine, completely smitten with a man he had just barely met. Jisung nodded excitedly, and they both stood up and downed the remainder of the cocktails they had been nursing. They shuffled over to the corner of the room, remaining out of sight from the rest of the crowd, and pressed against each other, Jisung letting the man lead him in a beautiful slow waltz. He could feel the music move through the dancers body, and he understood why Hyunjin had referred to him as the head teacher. Soon the songs evolved into upbeat dance tracks, where they held hands and jumped up and down, then the classic pop-punk ballads that had defined their youth. The prince shouted these at the top of his lungs, Jisung making a bit more of an effort to actually sing as they threw their fists up in the air.

“Your voice is amazing, you’re really suited to this!” He leaned into Jisung’s ear to speak, normal conversation being drowned out by the volume of the music and the crowd. He smiled as he felt the warm breath against his ear and neck, looking directly up into the taller man's eyes when he pulled back, still singing as loud as he could. The song ended and morphed into a slow ballad, and Jisung wrapped his arms around the man's neck to get close as he felt strong muscles wrap around his own waist. The song didn’t call for a waltz, just a subtle swaying back and forth, and Jisung pressed his cheek to the man's chest as they moved to the beat. He felt amazing, drunk on the music and the last swig of whiskey he’d taken, and it made him bold. He breathed in deeply, removing his head from its resting position to look right up at the man, and just as he did a dark pair of eyes moved to meet his own.

“I think you really might be my prince,” he muttered, eye contact breaking as Jisung’s moved to look at plush red lips and glanced back up, an unspoken question.

“Aren’t I supposed to help you keep your dignity tonight? Prevent you from anything you might regret?” The man responded, his eyes struggling in their own right to look anywhere but Jisung’s mouth as it formed a lazy smile.

“You can have my dignity, I won’t regret this,” Jisung stated, throwing caution to the wind as he leaned up and pressed his lips against the other. His action was met halfway, the kiss staying sweet for one, two, three seconds before desire took over them both. They pushed impossibly closer together, the man's hands roaming up and over Jisung’s slim figure, fingers slightly dragging against shoulder blades. Jisung’s own fingers found themselves tangled in chocolate brown hair, left hand staying still grasping the locks as his right hand slid down and over the prince's shoulder. This might be crazy, he thought, but that didn't stop him from sliding his tongue over the other man's lip, opening both of their mouths to mingle closer together. He can taste liquor on the man's tongue, and a hint of something spicy, the ginger beer still lingering from before they started dancing. It mixed nicely with the sweetness of honeyed liquor and lemonade that has remained in his own mouth since they took their first sip together. There Jisung was, at his best friend's wedding, making out with a stranger, liquor on both of their breaths, but no doubt in his mind that this is the most satisfying kiss of his life.

After who knows how long, they pulled away to breathe, meeting each other's eyes and smiling. A hint of a chuckle formed as Jisung breathed in and out deeply, and the prince smiled even wider as he leaned down to press a quick peck to a flushed cheek, another to his neck. He came back up and leaned his forehead against Jisung’s, eyes closing as he finally found a normal breathing pattern.

“You don’t kiss like a prince.” Jisung giggled, pressing a peck to the man's nose. He noticed for the first time a tiny mole on the side of it, and thought it might just be the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “You kiss like a demon”

“And you don’t kiss like someone who needs to be saved,” the prince, _demon_ , growled lowly, sliding his hands down the sides of Jisung’s body and resting them at the small of his back.

“Come on,” Jisung whispered, bringing his lips up as he spoke so they brushed against the other man's mouth each time a new word was formed. “I could use another shot.” He broke free from the hold, linked his left hand with the man's elegant right one, and dragged him over to the bar. They ordered and took their shots, flawlessly this time, and Jisung hopped up onto a barstool, back to the bar. Instead of sitting next to him, his companion for the evening had sidled up to face Jisung head on, tapping his knee to let Jisung know to open up his legs a bit. He took the hint, and the man stood comfortably in between Jisung’s thighs, letting himself be clung to like a koala as Jisung wrapped his arms back around his neck, thighs around his waist, and their lips were pulled back together. They both tasted like whiskey this time, but the burn was addicting, and their tongues worked around each other's mouths as if trying to erase the taste of liquor entirely and replace it with their own.

They couldn’t get enough of each other, completely enthralled as their bodies pressed as close as possible, certainly closer than should be appropriate while tucked away in a hotel ballroom hiding from people meant to be celebrating the union of two of their closest friends. There was an inexplicable magnetism, and whether or not it was fate, or the alcohol, or just the thrill of meeting someone new, Jisung wanted to explore. They finally had to pull back for air again, and as Jisung sat and the prince leaned back a bit, eyes both hooded and lips red, bitten, and shiny, he admired the work he’d done and wondered if he looked much the same. He reached up a hand, trying to smooth down the mess he had created in the taller man's formerly sleek brown hair. Suddenly, the loud sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat snapped them out of their moment, and both men looked behind them. The bartender was glaring at them, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, and though she couldn’t verbally ask them to leave the bar, it was very clear she was done with them ravaging her workspace.

“Do you want to get out of here?” the princely man asked, grabbing Jisung’s hands. The blonde boy's face flushed bright red, and only after a few moments of staring at Jisung did he seem to understand the implication of the question, and his face bloomed red to match.

“That’s certainly very forward of you,” Jisung grinned, biting his lower lip in amusement when he noticed the change in attitude. “I guess you really aren’t a prince. What a shame.” He sighed dramatically, looking down as he began opening and closing his fingers around the other man's hands.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re both drinking and… I just thought… I think there’s a twenty four hour diner down the street? Maybe some greasy food would do us good right now.” Jisung giggled, he hadn’t expected to ever see this man panic, and here he was causing it.

“Sure. Just one second. I think our lovely bartender deserves a good tip after sitting through that, and I did say the drinks were on me.” Jisung dug through his pocket, pulling out his wallet and phone. He grabbed a twenty dollar bill and laid it on the bar, pushing it to the tenders field of vision. She grabbed it, probably expecting a five, and smiled as she saw the generous tip.

“Thank you gentlemen.”

“Thank you for your service. Sorry about… that.” Jisung grimaced as she nodded her head and turned away.

“I’m not sorry,” the man whispered as quietly as possible, leaning into Jisung’s ear. He brought his face down a little lower and placed a kiss onto Jisung’s neck again, lightly sucking and licking the area for a few seconds before Jisung gently pushed him off.

Suddenly the screen of Jisung’s phone lit up and an alarm started, telling them that it was now eleven pm. He looked at his notifications and saw a string of texts from Chan, starting from thirty minutes ago.

_10:30: we’re gonna start wrapping up here_   
_10:40: Binnie and I are gonna start walking towards the car, pick you up out front?_   
_10:45 are u alive?_   
_10:57: we’re outside the hotel, get your squirrel ass out here_   
_11:01 we will wait until 11:10, if you don’t come out by then we’re leaving you to fend for yourself! Moving day starts at 7 am!_

“Oh my god! How did it get so late already?!” Jisung turned off the alarm and grabbed his wallet, beginning to panic. Had they really been making out for the better part of an hour? Feeling how raw his lips were, he guessed it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“I’m so sorry, I really want to go with you, but I need to get back to my hotel! Big day tomorrow!”

“I know we’ve been putting on this prince act, but are you really going to pull a Cinderella on me? It’s not even midnight yet!” The man pouted, looking like a puppy whose tail had accidentally been stepped on.

“I’m so sorry.” Jisung said sadly, at the same time clicking on his phone to call Chan and beg for him to wait. “I’m going to see you again. I will make this up to you.” He put his hand to the man's face and rubbed his thumb against the sharp cheekbone.

 _“Hello? Jisung? Where the hell are you?”_  
“Sorry Chan! I just lost track of time, I’m on my way outside right now!”

“How are you gonna find me, I don’t even know what your name is. And you didn't even ask for mine. I’m feeling very taken advantage of.” The prince whined, and oh my god he was even cuter when he acted a little spoiled.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung said, leaning forward for another quick kiss. He put his hand over the mic of his phone, trying to block Chan from hearing them without having to hand up. “I’m gonna ask Hyunjin for the name of the hottest head instructor at the studio! I really have to go!” He pressed one last kiss, a little bit deeper, to his prince's lips, and another to his forehead, then spun on his heel and began speeding away.

“Jisung? Who are you talking to? Did you just kiss someone?”  
“That’s ridiculous. I’m on my way out. Wait for me!” Jisung panicked as he hung up his phone.

“It’s Minho!” He heard a shout from the bar area, and for a split second he paused and all the warmth that had accumulated throughout his body in the last couple hours turned cold. There was no way. There’s no way he just spent the last two and a half hours attached to his new roommate in decidedly non platonic ways. It was just another Minho who danced with Hyunjin. He regained his stride, near running out of the venue, no time to say goodbye to any other guests.

“Jisung? Are you drunk? Why does your face look like that?” Changbin looked at his friend, clearly having had a few drinks himself with the way his eyes wouldn’t fully open and the red flush of his neck.

“I’m fine guys, just had a few too many drinks. I thought I might get sick and went to the bathroom but I lost reception. Let’s head back to the hotel,” he fibbed. He wasn’t drunk, not really, but it was easier than explaining what had really just happened.

Chan turned his head back from his seat behind the wheel, judgement clear as he was the designated driver, and frowned. _He’s totally not buying it_ , Jisung thought to himself, but much to his satisfaction Chan had simply nodded his head and pulled out of the lot.

* * *

Jisung snaps back to the present when he feels a tongue against his lips and hands on his hips. Minho is silently asking for entry, for more, and Jisung has never been good at denying his roommate anything. He opens his mouth and their tongues meet as Minho licks his way inside. Where their previous kisses had tasted like whiskey, full of passion and newness, this was sweeter in every way. Minho’s tongue tasted like brownie batter, rich and full and sugary, addicting in a whole different aspect. Jisung whines as he feels the hands leave his hips, but he hears the shuffling of bowls behind him as Minho slides them to the side, and suddenly there are hands under his thighs, an inch away from cupping his bottom, lifting him up, and Jisung grabs on as tightly as he he can to Minho, running his hands over strong biceps that he now knows are not just toned by years of dance, but also daily workouts and hard work.

“Oh my god, Jisung.” Minho groans into the smaller man’s mouth, feeling Jisung’s ankles link behind his back and pull Minho as close as possible. A wave of deja vu passed over them both, flashing back to the hotel bar, Jisung on a stool with Minho positioned between his thighs. As thrilling as that had been, as two strangers who had met an hour before, their current situation is more intimate still.

This is their home, their kitchen, their countertop. When Jisung wakes up in the morning, he will pass by this exact counter, will use it to prepare his coffee, and he doesn’t think he will ever be able to separate it from the memory of Minho shoving his tongue down his throat and moaning his name. It makes the kiss almost scary, it’s the reason he has held back as long as he has, but what’s done is done, and this is too good not to enjoy. The things that had attracted him to Minho on first meeting are still there, the glint in his eyes and the curve of his lips, the way he can be gentle and soft in one moment then teasing and sarcastic the next. Jisung still likes those things, but he has more to the list now. He knows that Minho wakes up easily, and cooks them both breakfast when he knows Jisung also has work early. He knows why Minho smells as good as he does, and is reminded of it every time he sees his soap in the shower and his cologne on the nightstand when they hang out in Minho’s room. He knows that he likes to cuddle sometimes, especially when they watch movies, and he’s a very good big spoon that doesn’t drool on Jisung’s shoulder if he falls asleep. He knows that Minho is a good singer too, and he walks around their apartment with headphones on singing pop anthems in a pretty falsetto when he doesn’t realize Jisung is home. Minho can be needy, but he will never say no to a genuine request, and Jisung sometimes relies on that a little bit more than he thinks he should.

Jisung pulls away for a moment; he wants to look at the man he still considers his prince in many ways and make sure he isn’t pushing the boundary. He needs to be sure that this isn’t just him taking too much, that Minho wants this too. He meets Minho’s eyes for a brief moment and sees how dark they are, a bit glazed over with desire and passion, and feels better.

“Minho,” he gasps, feeling warm lips trail down his neck. He leaves a brief peck right under his jawline, then moves down further. “Minho!” he tries again, louder and clearer this time, trying to find a moment to pause before they get carried away. It’s more than a peck this time, Minho is biting and sucking where Jisung’s neck meets his shoulder, and there’s no way it isn’t going to leave a mark. Maybe that’s good. If he has a mark, they both have to acknowledge this, and that’s exactly what Jisung wants. He can’t imagine another month of pretending they aren’t attracted to each other. He doesn’t want to fight the pull anymore, Jisung and Minho are two sides of a magnet and Jisung has lost all will to resist. He decides to let Minho keep marking his neck, getting lost in the pleasure at this point, and lets his head fall back and gently knock into the cabinets, a soft grunt escaping his mouth.

“Sungie? You okay up there?” Minho smirks as he looks up at the blonde man, face slack and blissed out, looking like he’s in absolute heaven. Jisung runs his fingers through Minho’s dark hair, gently moving him back to the base of his neck as a sign to continue.

“Yeah, good, amazing, keep going.” He manages to get out, not confident he can form full sentences with how overwhelmed he feels right now. Just as Minho places his mouth back on the already forming hickey, a string of beeps fill the room, and both the men straighten up. Jisung knocks his head, harder this time, and he hisses in pain as he brings his hand up to the sore spot.

Minho had brushed himself off, straightened his apron, and began his hunt for the oven mitts. Jisung takes that as his cue to finish up the kitchen work they were doing, scraping the final bit of brownie batter out of the bowl and onto his wooden spoon. He holds it steady in one hand as he walks over to the sink, turning on the faucet with one hand and then walking to retrieve the mixing bowl and place it in the sink, filling it with warm water and dish soap. He hears Minho close the oven door and place the tin on their stovetop to cool, then the beep of the oven being turned off.

“Min,” Jisung calls out, catching the other’s attention as he spins around so they’re facing each other. “Say ahh!” Jisung grins as he starts walking towards Minho, spoon pointed at his mouth.

“Is that the spoon you licked earlier?” Minho gasps, a scandalized look on his face. “Is this… an indirect kiss? Jisung you’re absolutely naughty!”

“You just- We just-” Jisung sputters, not even knowing how to respond to the idea of an indirect kiss with something he had just made out with on a countertop. Minho is clearly pleased with himself, Jisung can tell by the way he wiggles his eyebrows and smirks, as if his whole goal in life is to make the smaller man flustered. He’s doing a pretty good job. “If you were going to catch cooties from me you’d have caught them quite some time ago!”

Minho’s face falls a little bit at that, an expression Jisung can’t quite read mixing it’s way into the cocky smirk that typically finds a home there, but he still takes the spoon into his mouth and enjoys the last bit of batter. The expression almost looked like regret, or maybe surprise, but for what? This is the first time either of them have verbally acknowledged the night of the wedding, and god Jisung really hopes he isn’t the only one who remembers. If so he’s got a lot of explaining to do.

Jisung starts scrubbing the mixing bowl until all the batter is gone and the water runs clear, then places it on their drying rack. He feels Minho come up behind him and gently place the spoon in the sink, which he also begins to clean.

“You hit your head earlier, right? Let me feel.” Dainty fingers begin running through blonde hair, and Jisung hums at the feeling. “Your hair grows so fast, your roots are really showing. It was all blonde the night I met you. If I remember right you had just dyed it the day before. Where did you hit it?”

Ah. Jisung isn’t sure if that was intentional, but he’d wager that it was Minho’s subtle way of telling him he remembered, too. He remembered meeting Jisung at the wedding, even remembered Jisung commenting that he’d just bleached his hair, and if that was the case he almost certainly remembered spending the next two hours swapping spit with him in a rented hotel ballroom. So they both remembered, and yet when the next day came and they met on more official terms, neither made any mention of it, instead letting pressure build like a balloon until tonight when everything popped. Jisung can’t help but feel a little disheartened, even though he is just as much at fault.

“On the left side, towards the back. A little more to the back…OW! You found it!” Jisung squeals as Minho continues checking through his hair, making sure nothing is too badly injured.

“It’s not bleeding, just a teeny tiny bump. It’ll be gone in a couple hours.” He presses a kiss right over the spot, so softly and so full of something sweet (Jisung is scared to call it love) that Jisung almost melts. He finishes with the wooden spoon, adding it to the drying rack, and turns around. He’s facing Minho again, is basically caged against the counter once more, but the mood is entirely different than before, soft and fragile.

“Thank you Min.” Jisung smiles softly, then reaches his hand up to gently grasp Minho’s face, silently asking if this is okay. Minho smiles back at him, just as softly, full of fondness, and Jisung leans up to place the gentlest kiss in the world on his pretty pink lips. “I think we really need to talk before this goes much further, my oh so handsome prince.”

“We do.” Minho leans down, returning the sweet kiss with some of his own on Jisung’s lips, his cheeks, his nose. “I’m going to get addicted to this, so we definitely do. And I thought you had taken over the role of the prince from now on?”

Jisung grins and blushes. “We’re just going to have to share the duty until we get a chance to figure this out.” Jisung holds their hands up, having become intertwined without either of them really noticing, as a reference to what he means by ‘this’. “Sadly I don’t think we have time right now. Those just need a few more minutes to cool and then we can head out, right?”

“Jisung.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we should maybe change?”

Jisung slides a few steps back from Minho and takes in his appearance. He had fixed his apron before taking the brownies out of the oven, but the straps are loose, and his tee shirt has ridden almost halfway up his torso, likely the result of having a man's legs wrapped around his waist for the better part of twenty minutes. His sweats, in contrast, are slung low around his hips, slightly off center and very bunched up. His hair is a mess, and his face is still a little blotchy from excitement. Anybody could look at his lips and guess that he’d been involved in something less than PG. Jisung is honestly a little proud he’d been able to make his normally put together roommate look so dishevelled in such a short amount of time, but he certainly can’t show up to the party looking like that, especially not when they don’t even have a name or way to explain what they’re doing to their friends.

Jisung can’t see his face, but he looks down at his own sweatpants and see’s they’re also riding a little lower than normal, and one leg has slid all the way up to his knee. He turns around to look at his backside and sees a small chocolate stain from where he had been seated on the counter, and he doesn’t really care, these haven’t been anything but pajamas for a long time, but it’s a little bit embarrassing.

“Yeah, maybe those can cool a little longer while we get ourselves together.” Jisung mutters, scratching behind his head to try and distract from the fire shooting up to his ears again. “I’m gonna go fix my hair and wash any remaining chocolate off my face. Meet out here when we’re ready?”

“Sounds like a plan. Remember, we-”

“I know, I know, we don’t have a lot of time. I’ll see you in a few.”

Jisung steps into the bathroom and finishes taking in his appearance now that he has access to a mirror. His lips are swollen and bitten, just like Minho’s, but unlike Minho he has a fun new accessory laid at the base of his neck. A love bite, currently red and angry. It’s already easy to see, and it’ll be a miracle if Jisung has a shirt that can cover it up for tonight; after that, Jisung has already given up hope, there’s no way this isn’t going to be purple and blue for the next week at least. He looks ruined, but as he gazes in the mirror, he’s smiling.

Running his brush under the faucet and raking it through sandy blonde hair, Jisung just has to apply a little product to keep the bangs out of his eyes and wipe his face with a wet washcloth and his grooming is done. As he leaves the bathroom and enters his room, he allows himself 30 seconds to flop onto his bed and breathe deeply, processing everything that’s happened in the time since he got home from work. Where would they go from here?

He’s not quite sure, but the voice in the back of his head tells Jisung he’d better look damn good tonight if he wanted things to progress any further. While somehow also hiding this hickey. It’s July in Chicago, the low tonight is forecasted at 87 degrees, there is no way in hell he can handle a turtleneck. He pulls an oversized white button up from his closet and buttons it all the way to the top, just barely able to cover the blemish all the way. Jisung slips an oversized black band shirt overtop and cuffs the sleeves of the button up. He pulls a pair of high waisted trousers on and tucks the shirts in, finishing with a belt. The pants are his favorites, and while they’re fairly loose in the top area, tapering off at the leg, they cinch in the perfect spot to emphasize Jisung’s tiny waistline. Once he puts on a pair of black socks and slips some dangly earrings in, Jisung looks in the mirror. He looks like a damn eboy, but he’s not too upset about it. _Might as well commit_ , he thinks, grabbing some smokey liner and smudging it on the outside of his eyes.

Jisung gets to the living room sooner than Minho, which he’s definitely going to rub in his roommates face, but he figures he may as well get to work. He slices the now cool brownies into individual pieces and loads them into a tupperware container and places it in a bag, wanting to be poised to head out the door when Minho is done getting ready. His roommate is the one who’s been pushing to leave early to beat the evening rush on the train, but Jisung is the one who will be more affected if they do end up on a shoulder to shoulder car, and he knows Minho is just looking out for him and his discomfort with crowds. Glancing at the clock, it’s already 5:55, so it’s probably inevitable at this point. Jisung walks over to their entryway, leaning down to pull on his platform Converse Run Stars, hearing the door to the bathroom close and footsteps enter their main room.

“Minho, I have the brownies over here, since someone decided to take him time. Get your shoes on and let’s go.” Jisung calls out, still bent over and putting the last knot in his shoes. As he stands and turns around, he sees a pair of eyes raking in his appearance. He’s being checked out, gaze starting from his hair, pausing at his smokey eyes, down his torso where he sees a grin as Minho’s eyes take in the waistline these pants have given him, all the way down to his shoes. The grin gets wider as Minho stalks over to him, placing his hands on Jisung’s waist and thumbing the belt a bit.

“Han Jisung.”

“Lee Minho.”

“You’re trying to kill me with this outfit.” Minho leans in, capturing Jisung’s lips in a surprise kiss attack. Jisung kisses back for a second, then reminds himself not to fall into temptation just yet. He runs his hands up Minho’s arms, appreciating his muscles once again (he’ll probably never stop), but then grabs his shoulders firmly and pushes them apart.

“You’re incorrigible. I already told you, we need to pause until we have time to talk this out, and then go from there.”

“I know, but I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” Jisung can’t help but smile at that, trying to disguise it but failing as he resorts to turning around to pick up the brownies.

“Get your shoes on, we’re running late.”

Minho obeys, sitting down to put on a pair of black leather boots. He looks damn good himself, fresh faced with his hair brushed down neatly. He’s wearing a large blue and white striped button up, left open with a white tee underneath. The tee is tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, so sinfully tight and ripped across the thighs that not much is left to the imagination.

“If you wait til I stand up you can check me out better.” Minho chides as he looks up at Jisung.

“Then stand. If you ever actually start walking I might even get to look at your ass in those pants.”

They both make sure they’ve got phones, wallets, and keys, then head out the door into the humid summer evening. It’s a two block walk to the train station, but despite the rolled sleeves and cropped pants, Jisung is sweating uncomfortably 2 minutes into the journey. Even though Hyunjin and Seungmin’s apartment is only three stops away, as Jisung sees the massive crowd filtering out of their red line subway tunnel, he gets a little nervous.

“Sungie.”

Jisung looks up at Minho, trying to appear calmer than he feels. Minho just holds a hand out, offering it to Jisung in an action of protection. He really is the prince in this relationship.

“No funny business, I promise. I just don’t want to get separated. May I have your hand?” Jisung blushes a little at the phrasing, but nods nonetheless, clinging onto the hand that’s offered. The two men walk the stairs into the station, pulling out their transit cards and swiping their way in. As they take the second stairwell down onto the platform, a light flashes saying the next train is two minutes away. Jisung releases a breath in relief, not wanting to spend longer on this endeavor than needed.

As the train pulls up, Jisung realizes he has relaxed too soon. Each car is shoulder to shoulder packed, and there’s no way he’s getting any semblance of personal space for the next ten minutes. Minho pulls him by the hand onto the car, making sure they are the first two on after the departing passengers are out. Had Jisung been alone, he would have walked further towards the middle of the train and tried to make himself as small as possible, but Minho has a different plan. He walks across the entryway towards the doors on the other side of the car, directing Jisung to put his back to the unused exit. He has effectively been pushed into a corner, which should be his nightmare, but when Minho puts his arms one arm to the side of his head and the other on the back of his neck, he understands. This set of doors won’t be used for several stops, so he won’t have to move at all until they depart the train. He’s trapped, to be certain, but as much as he can’t move or escape, nobody can reach him either. His entire world right now is Minho and the dirty back of the train wall, so Jisung tucks his head into the taller man’s neck and shuts his eyes. The smell of sweat and public urination is replaced by cologne and the faint remainder of vanilla extract, and he tries not to think about how many people have touched the pole he’s holding onto for balance. The train hits a sizable bump, and Jisung clutches the brownie container tighter to his chest as he loses his grip on the pole. Minho reacts quickly, using the arm he has on Jisung’s upper back to hold him steady.

“Two more stops, just hold onto me.” Jisung nods, squeezes his eyes a little tighter, and tries to imagine a happy place. Pressed up to Minho like this, it’s really not that hard.

A few minutes pass and Jisung has successfully blocked out everything around him when he feels a tickling sensation on the back of his head. He ignores it, assuming someone has just brushed against him, but a couple seconds later he feels it again, a stronger sensation this time. He pulls his head away from Minho and cranes his neck up, trying to figure out what could be causing it. Minho has changed his position a bit, and as Jisung pulls back he realizes the taller man had been leaning much farther into him than when they first boarded. As Minho pulls back, the tickling sensation ends, and he looks absolutely caught. Eyes wide and cheeks flushing red, Minho snaps his head to the side, looking at anything but Jisung. He inhales through his nose a little bit, as if trying to clear it, and all the dots connect.

“Minho?”

“Hmm?” he hums in response, but still won’t look in Jisung’s direction.

“Min, what were you just doing?” Jisung pesters, eyebrows raised and a satisfied smile growing on his lips.

“Your hair…”

“My hair?”

“Your hair smells like brownie batter.” he mumbles, finally looking back towards Jisung. “It smells good, I didn’t realize what I was doing, sorry.”

“Minho,” Jisung replies, eyes widening and mouth getting smaller as if he’s about to disclose a secret, “this is really embarrassing for you.”

“Shut up.”

“You must really like me if you’re willing to defile my hair like that in public, Min.” Jisung nods a little bit, consulting with an invisible audience and confirming that Minho has indeed embarrassed himself. There is an absolutely shit eating grin taking over his face, and of course the one thing that can distract Jisung from this crowded train in this moment is torturing Minho.

“I- This is our stop, let’s just go.” Minho moves to get off the train, using his broad shoulders to push through the crowd. Jisung has to scramble behind him, almost getting pushed towards the middle of the car in the throngs of people making their way in and out. He gets through the door just a second before it closes, shutting his eyes and breathing deeply once he lands on the platform. There are still bodies scurrying around him, some walking around and giving him weird glances as he searches around for Minho.

“Jisung! Sungie!” he hears a shout from the left, and sees Minho standing at the base of the stairwell, ready to escape the platform. He starts to walk through the crowd, but a couple power walks past him and nearly knocks Jisung off his feet, and he freezes once again. Minho catches sight of this and jogs over to Jisung, intertwining their fingers and leading him up the stairs. They make their way out of the gates, taking the final stairwell up to street level and finally getting fresh air in their lungs. It’s not extraordinarily refreshing, not with how humid the city is during summer and the smell of exhaust in the air, but there’s certainly more room to move around.

Minho makes to let go of the other’s hand, seeing as they’re out of the danger zone, but is met with a firm squeeze.

“Please don’t ever leave me like that again. I’m sorry for teasing you, I was being a shit, but please don’t leave me like that ever again.” Jisung wouldn’t look up, instead staring at the grip he had on Minho’s hand.

“I won’t. I really thought you were behind me, and I got flustered, and- it doesn’t matter. I won’t leave you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” Minho squeezed Jisung’s hand back, trying to reassure him. “And I’m sorry for being creepy and sniffing your hair.”

Jisung giggles at that, finally looking up again and letting their eyes meet.

“Let’s walk. We’re still five blocks away and we’re already ten minutes late.”

They take the walk hand in hand, arriving at Seungmin and Hyunjin’s place ten minutes later. As they ring the bell and get buzzed in, Jisung suddenly gets nervous. Is he going to be able to control himself around other people with everything that’s happened today? He’s already clinging to Minho considerably more than he ever had before their change in dynamic, and he didn’t really want to stop. He doesn’t even want to let go of Minho’s hand, still clutching it as they walk up to their friends unit and knock. He’s waited a month to even begin to unveil his feelings for Minho, and now that the gates have opened all bets are off.

Throwing caution to the wind has worked in his favor when dealing with Minho thus far, and Jisung isn’t one to challenge such a well functioning system.

The door opens and Felix greets them, a wide smile on his face as he ushers them in. Jisung sees his eyes focus in on their intertwined hands and gives one final squeeze to Minho, both letting go when they see more bodies start to filter into the living room.

“Who is that? Minho! Jisung! Welcome to our newlywed sanctuary!” Hyunjin shouts, trying to squeeze through the crowd and greet the new arrivals.

“Newlywed... sanctuary? You guys have lived here for over a year, right?” Minho looks around confused, trying to see if anything has changed since the last time he was over.

“It has been our sanctuary for over a year, but I’m a married man now. It’s all different. Right baby?” Hyunjin projects his voice across the room, but Jisung and Minho can’t see past him and Felix, especially when he holds his left hand up and starts wiggling his fingers in their faces to show off his wedding band. A slender form starts maneuvering through the crowd, sliding behind Hyunjin and kissing him gently on the cheek.

“Right baby. Stop shouting, it’s loud enough in here. Oh! Is that the promised dessert Hyunjin won’t stop talking about?” Seungmin smiles at his new guests, taking the bag from Jisung and giving him a quick hug. “Come farther in, there’s more food and drinks in the kitchen. I’ll set this up as well.” He leads the way through the crowd, Jisung smiling politely at Jeongin, who is stood talking with Felix now, and more genuinely at Chan and Changbin, currently seated on the couch with Chan playing DJ. There’s an impressive spread on the kitchen table, Hyunjin must have solicited food from Felix and Jeongin as well, and he even recognizes some of the tupperware to be Changbin’s. “Anything to drink?” Seungmin opens the cooler and gestures to the selection in there, as well as a couple bottles of liquor on the table. Always the perfect host.

Jisung selects a cider from the cooler, looking up to Minho and holding it out to see if he wants one too. He accepts it and smiles gratefully, not entirely sure how to respond to Seungmin’s fast moving personality. He knows both sides of the couple, but as Jisung is more familiar with Seungmin, Chan, and Changbin, Minho is far more acquainted with Hyunjin, Felix, and even Jeongin from his past internship at the studio.

“Minnie, didn’t you just get back from your honeymoon? Where’s that relaxed island attitude I was looking forward to?”

“Trust me, this is me relaxed. I barely saw Hyunjin the two weeks after the wedding, I was grading exams and he was running end-of-year recitals. Minho knows.” They’ve walked back into the living room to find most of the seats taken, Chan and Changbin have pulled Jeongin in between them on the couch and are cooing over him while Hyunjin sits on the other side of Chan, watching in amusement. He’s always babying his cousin and seems to really be enjoying watching others do the same. Felix is alone on the loveseat, but upon seeing Minho and Jisung enter the room he stands and offers it to them, settling on the arm of the couch by Changbin.  
It’s a tight squeeze for both of them, their legs are pressed together firmly and Minho has to sling one arm over the back of the seat to give them enough room, but it’s cozy.

“Is that what was going on those two weeks? I feel like I barely saw Minho at all either. I thought my new roommate was a ghost.” Jisung wiggles his fingers at Minho, making spooky noises. Felix laughs, entertained by noises themselves but mostly the glare on Minho’s face. He was the one friend of Seungmin and Hyunjin’s that was neutral, having gone to school with Seungmin and Jisung. He was actually the one to hook the newlywed couple up, he had always had a keen eye for matchmaking.

“You two seem like a good pair. How’s the roommate thing working out?” Maybe he had _too_ keen of an eye.

“We’re figuring it out.”  
“It’s great!”

They answer at the same time, Jisung’s response being the less enthused of the two. They glance at each other and then away quickly. Jisung still wants to be lowkey about whatever is going on until they figure it out.

“It’s just, you know, like I said, I barely saw him the first two weeks. We’re still working out our routine!” Jisung is scrambling to make an excuse, and from the way Minho has pulled his leg as far into himself as possible to break contact, he can tell he’s starting to get upset.

“Yeah, no big arguments. Just getting used to each other's schedules.” Minho smiles politely, a little more reserved than usual.

“I’m sure you’ll work everything out. Bin and I have been roommates for years and are still working things out in the new place. New spaces take time, you know?” Chan says comfortingly.

“Exactly!” Jisung smiles at the group. “Now, what’s on the agenda for the night?”

“Jackbox games!” Hyunjin shouts, and everyone starts pulling their phones out as they get set up.

The mood lifts as the games start, and after the first round of trivia questions a drinking game breaks out.They’ve kept things light tonight, ciders and spiked seltzers in everyone’s hands so nobody goes too far, but the games are rowdy and loud regardless. Minho seems to be warming back up as well, pressing his leg back against Jisung’s and crossing their ankles together where nobody can see. It’s comfortable and sweet and Jisung really just wants to let go and lean into the man, allow himself to get swept up in his scent and his warmth. But he needs to wait, just one night, so when he feels himself losing the will to stay upright he excuses himself.

“I’m going to grab another drink, does anyone else want something?” Jisung announces, and his friends start shouting out orders.

“I’ll come with you,” Felix states, getting up from the little nest he’s made on the floor with Jeongin and Hyunjin.

They step into the kitchen and Felix looks behind him, making sure nobody has followed them as Jisung begins to pull various beverages from the cooler.

“So how are you and Minho?” Jisung stills, not expecting to be questioned any more on his roommate for the night. He was sure they’d been subtle in front of everyone. So he plays dumb.

“We’re really good, like he said, just adjusting to each other's schedules. He’s easy to live with, he’s a lot cleaner than me.” Jisung laughs, cracking open another cider and hoping he seemed natural.

“But are you like… Dating? Friends with benefits? What’s going on there?” Jisung coughs, cider going doing the wrong pipe as his body jolts in shock at the sudden insinuation. How did Felix always know everything?

“Why would you think that?”

“You two seemed pretty friendly at the wedding, I assumed it would probably continue from there.” Felix looked at Jisung wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he walked up to next to Jisung, hopping up on the counter and pulling Jisung in front of him, wrapping his legs around the shocked man’s torso. “Doesn’t this position seem familiar? If I remember correctly this is how I saw you two at the bar in the back.” He giggles as Jisung’s face lights up, realizing they’d been caught. Jisung lets himself fall into Felix’s chest, hugging his torso and squishing his face up against his friend in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh god Lix, you’ve known for this long and never said anything? I didn’t even know we were seen. I didn’t even know who he was! Does anyone else know?” His voice comes out muffled, a result of speaking directly into his friends abdomen.

“Aw Sungie.” Felix pats the back of Jisung’s head comfortingly, trying to calm his friend down. “I didn’t tell anyone, and I don’t think anyone else was really using that bar. Don’t worry. I just thought- when you guys walked in holding hands, it seemed like there was something still going on.”

Jisung pulls away from his friend, grabbing Felix by the hands, sinking to the ground, and pulling him down with. The cool tile flooring feels nice, and the cabinet makes for a good headrest as he works up the nerve to explain himself.

“There isn’t. Or there wasn’t”

“Then who’s been gnawing on your neck?” Felix questions, sticking a finger in Jisung’s collar and pulling it outwards, shirt having shuffled out of place when Jisung slid down. “I haven’t seen your neck look like this since college.”

“You were the one who made it look like that in college, of course you would notice. God, we were so horny back then.”

“I remember.” Felix smiles, not looking at Jisung. They’re both leaning their heads back lazily, smiling into the air as they think back to old times. Jisung reaches for Felix’s hand, squeezing. They couldn’t make it as a couple, they were too similar in their flaws and different in their strengths, but Felix was attuned to Jisung’s emotions in a way he could never really explain. Their breakup had been amicable and turned into a cherished friendship, so Jisung couldn’t really think of a better person to confide in regarding his current predicament.

“Really, nothing was going on. Until today, I wasn’t even sure he remembered that night, but it all kind of blew up this afternoon.”

* * *

The day after the wedding at 7:00 am, Jisung woke up feeling fuzzy and exhausted. Him, Chan, and Changbin had offered to buy brunch for Seungmin and Hyunjin in thanks of their generosity in helping them move. It really wasn’t something they needed to be doing the day after their wedding, but they had insisted, that was just the kind of couple they were.

Since Jisung only needed to move his suitcases and a box of miscellaneous items, the trio staying at the hotel decided to drop his stuff off first before meeting the newlyweds at brunch and starting their own move. Jisung changed into something comfortable that wouldn’t be completely inappropriate to wear to a nice brunch, enlisted the help of a bellman to move his bags out of the room and into Chan's hatchback, and they were off to find his new building. He was excited to see his new place but couldn’t shake the pit in the bottom of his stomach when he thought of how last night ended.

Minho. He had an amazing time with Minho, and as short as their time had been together, he really felt something. He wanted to try things out, see if he could finally find a serious relationship. But if they were roommates… that made things complicated. They barely knew each other, and getting to know someone by dating them comes at a very different pace than the way you get to know a person you live with. As much as it pained him, pursuing anything past friendship probably wasn’t a good idea. That was what he told himself.

While Chan pulled up to the building and started unloading the car with Changbin, Jisung thumbed through his phone, scrolling until he found the right contact. Taking a deep breath in, he pressed the call button, waiting to see if the voice on the line was the one he remembered so clearly from last night, whispering into his ear, teasing and flirting with him.

_“...Hello?”_

The voice was groggy with sleep, and even though he’d told Minho what time to expect him he had a feeling he’d just woken up his new roommate. It was hard to partner the voice with what he remembered, this voice was gruff and raw. He’d find out in a few minutes anyway.

_“Hi, Minho. Sorry if I woke you. It’s Jisung. My friends and I are just here to unload my suitcases and pick up my keys. Do you mind buzzing us in?”_

_“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I honestly kind of forgot. Had a busy day yesterday. I’ll buzz you guys in now.”_

_“Thanks. See you up there.”_

Jisung grabbed the door as it buzzed open, waving Changbin and Chan over. He stood in place as a human doorstop as they wheeled his bags in and the box of nick-nacks. Once everything was inside, Jisung lifted the box and let his friends take the less strenuous activity. The elevator ride up was silent, everyone still half asleep, but soon they were off and walking down the hall to unit 6B.

He knocked on the door and it opened a few seconds later, as if his roommate had been waiting right there, and Jisung’s fears were confirmed. There he was, the prince from the night before, admittedly looking a bit less princely in sweatpants and a white tee with his hair sticking up at all angles, but beautiful nonetheless. Jisung felt his heart skip a beat, in excitement or panic he wasn’t sure, as they stood on either side of the doorway looking at each other. He saw Minho blink once, then a few more times rapidly.

“You’re…”

“Um. Hi. I’m Jisung. Han Jisung, your new roommate. So… yeah. Hi.” Smooth. He wasn’t sure how to introduce himself when he couldn’t even tell if he’d been recognized, and he really didn’t want to bring attention to last night with his friends right there. He knew they would need to talk, but this wasn’t the right time. Jisung held his hand out for a handshake and smiled softly. Minho’s face visibly deflated, in disappointment or relief Jisung couldn’t tell, as he grabbed the others hand and shook it.

“Oh. Ok then.” Minho rubbed his eyes a bit and squinted, as if he wasn’t sure if he was seeing correctly. “Well, come in, I’ll show you your room.”

Jisung smiled and followed the man, looking around his new place as his friends trailed behind. It was really beautiful, he’d honestly never lived somewhere with so much charm. He really wanted this to work out.

“This is really great, Ji. You lucked out.” Changbin said approvingly, wandering around the space.

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy, but the building is well maintained and we’re in a good spot.” Minho supplied, shuffling through a drawer in search of something. He pulled out a lanyard with three keys hanging from the bottom and a little cat keychain dangling next to them. “These are your keys, building entrance, apartment entrance, and mailbox.” He showed them off to Jisung and offered the lanyard over. Jisung took them from his hand, feeling heat build up a few moments later when he realized he had been holding on to Minho’s hand for a while and hadn’t let go yet. He pulled his hand away quickly and shoved the keys in his pocket, Minho’s hand dropping down slowly.

“Let me show you your room.” he said quietly, starting down the hall. Jisung followed past the bathroom, and Minho opened the second door on the left and entered, holding the door open for Jisung to trail in behind him. It’s an average bedroom, queen size bed dressed and ready for use, closet a little on the smaller side but that was to be expected since his name wasn’t technically on the lease yet.

“It’s great, really. Thank you so much for taking me on such short notice, this is really saving me.” Jisung smiled awkwardly at him, trying to break the strange atmosphere between the two. He couldn’t read Minho right now, was he just tired? Annoyed? Disappointed? He was much less lively than the man Jisung had spent his night with. Jisung really hoped it was the first one, he couldn’t bear for every moment in his home to be like this.

“Hey, Minho. I’m meeting up with Hyunjin and Seungmin for brunch in a little bit and then we’re gonna start moving the other guys furniture, but will you be here tonight? Let’s get to know each other better.” _Let’s talk about what happened last night and where to go from here._ Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say what he wanted so straightforwardly, but he hoped Minho got the message.

“Sure, Jisung.” Minho placed his hand on Jisung’s head and smiled fondly at the boy, and Jisung let himself hope.

But when Jisung got back to the apartment late in the evening, Minho was nowhere to be seen. His room was dark, the apartment silent, and the only clue Jisung had was a post-it note on the fridge. _Something came up, spending the night at a friends. Be back tomorrow._

Minho returned early in the morning, and from what Jisung could hear only stayed long enough to shower and head right back out. His own schedule for that day had him leaving the apartment at noon and returning at 10 pm, so they missed each other entirely. The next week and a half followed in similar fashion, their schedules overlapping for an hour at max, which they filled with idle small talk and learning basic facts about each other.

The mood didn’t shift until a week and a half in, when Jisung had the day off. He was lounging on the sofa, legs hanging over the arm and head flat in the middle, watching some Netflix documentary on lions, when Minho came crashing through the door. Jisung sat up on his elbows to look at his roommate, and his stomach dropped at the sight. He looked absolutely exhausted. The dance instructor was carrying some sparkly looking props in both arms, probably for one of his youth classes, and he looked close to collapsing as they rattled to the floor. The area under his eyes was dark, skin a little paler than Jisung remembered, and if stress could be personified it would look a lot like the man standing in the doorway.

“Minho, come sit down. Let me make you a tea or something, you look awful.”

“Thanks a lot. Don’t need a tea, just need to sit,” he grumbled, sprawling out on the other side of the sofa. Due to Jisung’s position, he couldn’t roll off the couch without placing his head down first, and it was on trajectory to land right in Minho’s lap.

“Ok, hang on one second, let me shift around,” Jisung mumbled, allowing his head to fall down for a moment. As soon as it landed in Minho’s lap, there were hands in his hair and he froze. Jisung peered up at his roommate, head tilted back and eyes closed, breathing peacefully.

“Soft. Your hair really is soft.” he whispered, beginning to move his fingers over Jisung’s scalp. It felt amazing, so Jisung allowed it, cozied up to it even, and the two let the documentary play in the background as a comfortable feeling took over the room.

Things brightened up from there, especially a few days later when Minho wrapped up his recitals and finally got back to a normal schedule. The first week and a half was forgotten, and they began forging a stronger bond as roommates, but they slipped up sometimes. Their touches lingered a bit too long, sitting on the couch watching a show together turned into cuddling on their sides and occasionally drifting off. It wasn’t often, but sometimes these moments came and Jisung let himself think about all the what ifs. What if he brought up the night they met? What if he made a bigger move? What if they really gave this thing they had a shot? These thoughts filled his mind, bouncing around and building, until the night of the welcome back party where everything burst.

* * *

It feels so good to talk to somebody about this. As Jisung recounts his story to Felix, he feels a weight release from his chest, and it’s incredible.

“I’m not sure how much my opinion matters here, but I know you both, and I think Minho really likes you, Jisung.”

“Yeah, he’s been really clingy since earlier today, but I don’t know if he likes me or just likes the idea of making out with me whenever he wants.”

“No, it’s not just that. He was really off for a while after you moved in. I’ve worked alongside him for a while now, and I’ve never seen him moody like that. That first night you moved in, he came to stay with me. And a few days later too. I think he was disappointed, or having a hard time controlling himself, or trying to give you space.”

“Seriously? How come you never told me before?”

“I thought he would have told you. He’s your roommate. And besides, after a week and a half he seemed brighter again. Maybe even brighter than he was before you moved in. I really thought you’d started dating or something.” Jisung smiles at that, liking the thought that he’d made a good impression on Minho’s life. He’s going to get this sorted out. Tomorrow at the latest, because as much as Minho deserves clarity Jisung also knows that he himself can’t let much longer either. He pulls Felix into another hug, only pulling back when he hears footsteps come through the doorway.

“You two look cozy,” Jisung hears a familiar voice tease, Minho looking down on them with a smirk. “I just came to see where those drinks were at, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Jisung looks up at him, blush rising to his cheeks a little. Minho knew him and Felix were close, but he hoped this situation didn’t look too bad.

Jisung sees two hands reach towards him from above, and grabs on to let himself be pulled from the ground. The way Minho directs him brings Jisung’s body an inch away from the other, and an arm wraps it’s way around his waist posessively.

“Sungie and I were just catching up, I’m not trying to steal your roommate, don’t worry” Felix chuckles, grabbing three drinks to deliver to the living room. He shuffles up to the duo, pressing a quick kiss to Jisung’s cheek and winking at Minho directly after. “Good luck, Jisung.” he practically sings, skipping out of the room.

“Should I be worried about that?” Minho questions, poking at the place Felix’s lips had landed.

“I don’t know, Min. Maybe he wants to get back together with me? Revisit the past?” Jisung giggles, pulling away from Minho and grabbing the rest of the drinks. He can’t resist a little teasing.

“B-Back together? There was a time you were together? Why didn’t anyone tell me this?” Minho’s eyebrows furrow, and Jisung has never seen him look so adorably confused.

“You know now.” Jisung says with a cackle, walking up to Minho and planting a kiss on his cheek before leaving the room in the same exact fashion as Felix had moments ago.

Jisung delivers drinks to everyone who’d made a request, planting himself back in the loveseat once he’s done. The group is on a new Jackbox party game, some shouting out in outrage and some in agreement, and nobody but Minho seems to have noticed his and Felix’s extended absence. Minho comes in a few moments later and sits next to Jisung, pulling the smaller man's legs into his lap this time. Jisung looks at him questioningly, but he’s just met with a small smile that’s hard to deny anything to. He goes with the flow of things, and when he’s not playing the game he’s pulling on one of the threads hanging from Minho’s ripped jeans, twirling it around his finger and watching as it turns red, then releasing. When the string breaks, Jisung subconsciously digs his finger into one of the holes, searching for a new one to play with. When he’s unsuccessful he moves his hand to the slash a little further up on Minho’s leg, digging around until Minho grabs his hand and stops the action.

“Jisung, please tell me you’re not doing this on purpose and just haven’t noticed where your hand is right now.” Minho murmurs into the other man’s ear, and only then does Jisung realize exactly how high up his hand is sitting and the problems it’s starting to cause. There’s nothing noticeable to the untrained eye, but Minho’s jaw is a bit clenched and Jisung is pretty sure those pants weren’t as tight in the front when they left the apartment.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung squeaks, pulling his hand away quickly.

“It’s fine, Sungie. I just need you to-” he stops whispering and demonstrates physically instead, pulling Jisung’s legs higher up on his lap so they cover the problem area. “Just please don’t move.” He says finally.

As the round progresses, Jisung finds himself being pulled further and further onto Minho. He has apparently willed the problem away, which eases Jisung’s conscience. By the end of the game, he’s entirely perched on Minho’s lap, and his roommate’s chin is resting on his shoulder to see the TV properly. It’s not the worst thing they’ve done in a room full of people, but Jisung finds himself wanting more, imagining what it would feel like to just flip his body so he’s straddling Minho and let himself do as he pleases. He tries to focus on the game, pay more attention to what’s going on in front of him instead of the man behind him, but fails.

“Just remember,” Minho whispers under his breath, “Felix is twiggy. My lap is much more comfortable.” He pats Jisung on the thigh, pulling him back farther onto his lap and leaving his hand gripped on the inside of his leg. Great, he’s made Minho jealous, but Jisung didn’t bargain for this kind of backlash. He really can’t take it.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom, I’ll be right back,” Jisung whispers, patting Minho on the head to let him know to move his chin. He whines, but obliges. The bathroom is down the hall and around the corner from the living room, allowing for a good amount of privacy. Jisung enters and uses the toilet, then steps up to the sink. After washing his hands, he leaves the water running, adjusting it to a chilled temperature. For the second time today, he uses cold water to snap himself out of unwanted thoughts, splashing it on his face and slapping his cheeks. After giving himself a mental pep talk _(You can do this, Jisung. Just make it past tonight and hopefully you can make out with Minho whenever you want, so get your mind out of the gutter for now)_ , he dries off his face with a washcloth and opens the door to head back to the party.

But he’s stopped by two strong hands on his shoulders, pushing him back into the room.

“Let’s talk.” Minho looks serious, more determined than Jisung has ever seen him.

“Talk about what? Minho?”

“You keep saying I can’t treat you how I want until we talk, so let’s talk.”

“Now? We’re in the middle of a party, all our friends are here! Shouldn’t we do this when we can sit down and have more time-“

“That’s the thing I don’t get, Jisung.” Minho interrupts. “You keep saying we need to talk this out like it’s going to take a long time, or be complicated, but I really only need two words.” Jisung looks at him uneasily, then hops onto the counter so they can speak face to face.

“Ok, I’m listening.”

“Date me.”

Jisung’s jaw goes slack in surprise, and he must look extremely dumb because Minho starts laughing at him like he’s party entertainment.

“I’m serious, Jisung. Go on a date with me.”

“But what if things don’t work? What if we go on one or two dates and realize we don’t actually want to date each other, what if it’s all just physical? Doesn’t that mess things up?”

“I’ve wanted to date you since fifteen minutes after we met. I wanted to date you even more when we started dancing and I heard you sing for the first time. By the time we were making out at the bar I was trying to figure out a plan in my head to make you my boyfriend.” Minho steps forward, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s waist and running his thumb up and down. He looks nervous, red and flustered. Jisung finds it extremely adorable, and he’s pretty sure he must look the same. Minho blinks a few times and looks down before peering into Jisung’s eyes. “Then you pulled that Cinderella act on me and disappeared, which was fine because you said you’d call me. But then I wake up to you asking to get into my apartment at 7:30 in the morning, and instead of acknowledging what happened, you introduced yourself as my new roommate, and I got scared. I didn’t know if you forgot about me or you wanted to or you just weren’t ready to talk about it, and I panicked, and I avoided it too.” Minho leans forward, pressing his lips to Jisung’s briefly, just for a split second.

“So yeah. I knew I wanted to take you out within fifteen minutes of meeting you, and it’s been over a month, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m glad we had time to get to know each other as roommates, it’s made me even more sure. I’m done being in this grey area. I want to introduce you as the guy I’m dating and to be able to cling to you in public and tell Felix to back off because you’re mine, and you can do the same for me. And if you say no, I respect that, but I need to know if you want to try.”

Jisung takes a moment to process all of that. The entire time he’s been trying to push down his feelings for Minho, he’s felt the same? He supposes that explains a lot. There are a lot of things that could go wrong,things that end up with him stuck looking for apartments again or squeezing onto Chan and Changbin's couch at night. But when he thinks about what could go right, and everything that already has, he really already has his answer.

“Ok. Yeah, ok, let’s date”

“Really? You’ll let me take you out?”

“Yes, I want you to take me out. I’m ready to try this. I’m scared, honestly. There’s so much at stake if things go wrong, but I somehow don’t think they will. It’s not like it’s been easy for me to hold back either, I’ve liked you since I saw you across the aisle from me at the wedding ceremony. Of course I want to date you.” Jisung flushes and looks down bashfully at the confession, he never expected to reveal that much.

“Then I’ll take you out on the best date of your life. I’ll even pick you up and drive you home after.” Minho chuckles, and Jisung can hear the smile in his voice. “So now that we’ve talked, can I please, _please_ kiss you?”

“Mhmm” Jisung hums, pushing closer to Minho and locking their lips together. The kiss sparks something in him, and Jisung feels warmth and satisfaction take over his body. It stays gentle, Jisung trying his hardest not to get riled up while they’re still at their friends' place. He pulls away smiling, seeing the expression reflected on Minho’s face, and decides he really could fall in love with the sparkly look in Minho’s eyes someday. Jisung hops off the counter and they fix themselves in the mirror, shuffling out of the bathroom.

“By the way, you can stop being intimidated by Felix. He and I only dated in college for three months, he’s just fucking with you.” Jisung laughs, making his way towards the living room.

“Wait, Jisung.” Minho grabs Jisung by the hand and turns him around. “Are we telling people? Or waiting until later? I want to do what makes you comfortable.”

Jisung looks up at him, face serious. He can’t help but feel a little bad when he thinks of how flexible Minho has been throughout the past month, especially tonight when he finally got what they had both been waiting for and Jisung all but ripped it away under the premise of talking later. He’d been hurting someone he truly cared for without realizing, all because he talked himself into some weird one-sided thought process and didn’t even have the guts to relay the information to the other party involved. He’s a good man, better than what Jisung deserves, and Jisung is done ignoring the elephant in the room. He’s going to be just as good for Minho from now on, he’s going to show him the extent of his feelings.

“Well I don’t want to make some big announcement at our friends homecoming party,” Jisung ponders aloud, “but I’m also truly entirely done with pretending you don’t make my heart go crazy. So honestly, I don’t care what they see, let’s just do what feels right for us.” Minho grabs Jisung by the waist and squeezes, tight, burying his face in the smaller man's neck and pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

“I really like you.”

“I really like you too.” Jisung smiles, trying not to get too emotional and start tearing up. Instead he distracts himself, pulling Minho into another kiss, deeper than before. Nobody can see them from this area anyway, so the kiss grows long, heat and passion beginning to work their way into the mix when Minho steps backwards and moves them, his own back hitting the wall as Jisung leans into him. For the first time, Jisung is the one caging Minho in, the one controlling the pace, and Minho feels at peace knowing he’s at the other's mercy.

A fake cough sounds from a few feet away, followed by incredulous words. “Seriously? Again? Can’t you two ever suck face where there isn’t an audience?” Felix teases them, and the two pull away from each other. Jisung keeps his arms wrapped around Minho and shoots Felix the side eye.

“Don’t be jealous, Lixie, you know I love you but there’s another man in my heart now.” Jisung smiles, cracking a joke at his friend and looking up to see Minho’s confused face once again. Felix laughs brightly, smiling at the new couple.

“I’m glad you guys have worked things out, but people are starting to worry. You may want to head back in there.” He sends them one last smile before heading into the bathroom.

“We’ll continue this later.” Jisung leans up to press a quick peck onto Minho’s lips, grabbing his hand and leading him into the living room and back onto the loveseat.

“Sorry guys, Jisung had an earring emergency and I was helping him out. This eboy look of his takes a lot of work, I guess.” Minho chuckles, and the people in the living room glance around at the two. As casual as they’re trying to be, Jisung has already settled back on top of Minho’s lap, strong arms wrapped around his torso, and their position isn’t making anybody any less suspicious of them. Nobody seems in the mood to question them, though, so they all turn back to the TV and continue on with their game.

“You do make a really hot eboy, though,” Minho whispers, breath fanning over Jisung’s ear and sending a shudder through his body.

 _Screw this_ , Jisung thinks, turning around on Minho’s lap so he really is straddling him this time.

“You can’t just say that and not expect me to lose my mind,” he whispers, leaning into Minho and pulling him into another kiss. He hears shouts in the background, ranging from “I KNEW THEY WERE UP TO SOMETHING!” to “DON’T DO THAT HERE, YOU’RE TAINTING MY PRECIOUS LITTLE COUSIN’S EYES!”

“I’m a grown man, Hyunjin. Let them make out in peace, it’s honestly better than watching them eye fuck each other.”

Minho is enjoying putting on a show, though, and he lets his hands roam down to Jisung’s bottom as he looks over the man in his lap's shoulder. The shouting seems to have startled him, and he’s curled into Minho’s neck in embarrassment, but Minho looks at them with the eyes of a king holding the world's most precious treasure in his lap.

“Don’t be jealous just because I found a cute boy to live with,” he says with a smirk, and his audience releases a collective sigh.

The night goes on much like this, the group all playing games and chatting, catching up on new life developments until it’s time to leave. Minho and Jisung walk hand in hand to the train, the station now mostly empty with plenty of room to sit in the car.

“Minho, do you want to hear that song I was telling you about earlier?”

“Of course, Sungie, I told you I’m always here to listen.”

Jisung pulls his headphones out of his pocket and puts one in Minho’s ear, scrolling through his phone until he finds the song, Close.

“I wrote this at the start of the month, this is the one that’s too personal to sell, so no making fun, ok?”

“Of course not.” The song starts playing, a soulful tune about the pull of two strangers in a crowd, the feeling of knowing you want to be with someone after just a glance. Jisung hums while it plays, laying his head on Minho’s shoulder.

“Is this about-?” Minho starts, then realizes he doesn’t even really need to ask. It’s everything he felt that night of the wedding, written and vocalized beautifully by Jisung. Their story. He looks down at the man on his shoulder. It’s taken a while for them to get to this place but they’re together now, or at least have a real chance to be. He runs a hand through Jisung’s hair, a motion that’s become tradition at this point, and looks forward to more small traditions the future may hold.

“I love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, my short baking fic ended up including time skips and big reveals (hopefully) and far more than I bargained for, but I hope you all liked it! There is an epilogue posted within this series, it’s about 7k and I’m really proud of it. It gets a little *spicy* but nothing explicit. I definitely recommend you check that out if you liked this so you can get more into Jisung’s head! Thank you for reading!  
> You can find me on twitter at /0hrhj0


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